Young Narcissa
by pheonlynx
Summary: Not as crazy as Bellatrix, less rebellious than Andromeda, what makes this strong confident young woman become the devoted wife we know as little more than Draco's mother? Narcissa is starting Hogwarts full of optimism and pride. I do not own the image.
1. A Promising Beginning

Narcissa Black was calm, collected and confidant. After all, even eleven year olds with the benefit of her heritage have nothing to fear – in any situation really. She knew what to expect, more or less. Despite not being the oldest of her sisters, she knew what was going to happen. Hogwarts (and magic) was in her blood. Plus her blood was pure and, as a Black, there was no question of house. She would be in Slytherin – just like Bellatrix. Just lik her parents. She would excel without too much effort in her studies and, when combined with the status of her blood, this would soon help her develop the reputation she was trained from birth to achieve. At Hogwarts, as in any other setting, she would be the most desirable, the most pure and most worthy of special attention of all her peers. She was born to it, raised to it. Her right was to work a little to maintain her name and from then on find her life was charmed.

Knowing all of this to be fact, she apparated (alongside her Father) to the station a few weeks after her eleventh birthday feeling little but calm expectation. The station was busy, but not yet packed. Of course, her family had arrived in time to make sure Miss Black would be sat with the right sort – 'start as you mean to go on' so to speak. Her Mother had already found her friend Lady Greengrass. Well, that is to say, Lady Greengrass had noticed her Mother's apparition with her two sisters.

"Darling! How are you? Good summer? –and the girls, growing up lovely I see" The lady in question was squealing to the more reserved Mrs Druella Black – who in turn fielded the questions, and reciprocated, with great dignity.

"Probably a good job she spoke first… your mother's pride would never allow her to come gushing over like that" her Father muttered, hooking Narcissa's arm through his and steering her with practiced ease through the crowd. Narcissa stifled a giggle, glancing back at where her Mother and sisters were trapped in the Greengrass woman's gossipy clutches. Father and daughter navigated the crowd gathered on the steamy platform. Mr Black, nodding gravely to his peers, teased his daughter's slight nerves from her with more wry observations and sarcastic cynicism. He could feel the barest tension in the small fingers resting on his forearm and was proud; she was carrying herself like a princess, already drawing honour to the family name.

Narcissa was something of his pet. His middle child in age, she also had the mildest temper of the three. Bellatrix was bold and loud and completely hooked on his wife's convictions. Narcissa was equally proud, kinder and perhaps even showed more dignity in her quiet expectation than Bellatrix did in her shrieked demand. Andromeda was young yet, but seemed slow to learn the dignity of her name. Andromeda and Bellatrix grated on each other and their separation at term time was a relief for the whole household.

….

Time passed quickly in the swirl of steam and the chatter of the crowd. The house elves had deposited the two girl's trunks earlier in the day so after a brief and fond (but, of course, dignified farewell) Narcissa followed Bellatrix onto the train. Waving out of windows was clearly not a decorous act and the two ignored the students who hung their torsos out of the carriages to shout last goodbyes or messages about forgotten quiditch jerseys and owling when they arrived. They made their way to the front of the train, where the atmosphere in the carriages was far more sedate.

"You'll be alright Cissy. I'm going to sit with the fourth years. Potential Slytherin first years are up at the very front, I'll see you at dinner." with a quick peck on Narcissa's cheek, Bellatrix was gone.

Heading in the direction her sister had gestured Narcissa moved forward. Unlike a lot of the students, she wasn't dressed in overtly muggle clothing, just enough to blend in with the crowds if necessary. She wore black jeans with a slight flare, black pumps and a draped top of dark green – that was precisely modelled to resemble robes.

Moving forward with the perfect poise drilled into her from birth (which was not difficult as the train had yet to set off on it's rocking way) she glanced in windows until she recognised some of the occupants as her own age group. 'Ahh there's Knott…haven't seen her since her mother's party' she thought to herself. Sliding the door open, she stepped in and nodded to the occupants. Smiling around, she took the seat between Helena Knott and the door.

"Narcissa, good summer?" Helena asked turning to her and drawing more attention from the other occupants.

"Yes thank you. And everyone else…?" Narcissa opened the conversation gracefully, smiling around.

There were murmurs of agreement. She recognised most from the various social gatherings held by the elite throughout the season. Although not really of an age where she attended other family's balls, there were always picnics and charitable events, even the occasional birthday party. Those she did not recognise could usually be placed by their family's colouring or some other prominent feature.

Conversation developed and Narcissa paid attention, anyone in this carriage would of course be a member of the elite and so her family would approve of friendships made here. As well as Helena, there was a seemingly kind and intelligent girl who made the odd light hearted comment, now and then provoking chuckles. She was called Carlotta and Narcissa smiled across at her encouragingly (she did seem a little shy). Apparently some cousin of the Malfoy's, Narcissa gathered she could be cultivated into a useful ally, as well as genuinely warming to her.

The rest of the journey passed quickly, Narcissa, after the first hour of chat, choosing to take out her book and read a while. She'd discovered a nice guy who was related to the Macnair's, a Greengrass called Jillian and a younger relative of Bellatrix's crush Lestrange. She felt that was enough networking for a while and knew Bellatrix would no doubt steer her back if she set a foot in the wrong friendship direction.

Moving to the back of the train to change into her robes later on, Narcissa smiled mildly at the students she met in the corridors. She didn't want enemies and besides, who knew which house these students may end up in. There was no reason, she could see, to blank them as the other elitest students did. The elder Slytherins she saw on their way back from changing often seemed inclined to snarl at the 'blood traitors' and 'commoners' of other houses. Sure, Slytherin was the best house for her but all had decent qualities and they were all here to learn.

Straightening up her new uniform, Narcissa made a promise to herself that house would not matter to her. She may not be at liberty to be friends with all these people, but she wouldn't hate them for their house. Many pure blood lines ran in Ravenclaw and Gryffindor and some even in Hufflepuff. Narcissa wasn't going to cause trouble by ignoring the status quo, but she'd treat everyone fairly. It was the only gracious thing to do – and she had been raised to be a setter of standards.


	2. Glimpsing Home

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or any recognisble content. All credit for that goes to JK Rowling.

Arriving in Hogsmeade was not daunting for Narcissa; she'd caught sight of Bellatrix's wild haired head in a crowd heading up to the castle but she knew what to expect and that her bags were all taken care of. Besides, she'd been to Hogsmeade before.

Following the crowd into the lengthening shadows of twilight, Narcissa found the small boats that were waiting. She settled back into the rocking boat she shared with Carlotta and Helena, exuding confidence and poise, to the point of appearing almost bored. She heard the collective gasp from the first years as they rounded the corner and were met with the view of Hogwarts. Doubly majestic, the proud building of tall towers and glowing windows was reflected in the still dark waters of the lake. Narcissa admitted it was an impressive façade, but growing up in and visiting many ancient and magnificent buildings meant that they had begun to have little impact – plus she had, of course, seen Hogwarts before.

Narcissa held her dignity in check, allowing only a satisfied sigh at the sight of her new school and temporary home. The other purebloods in the boats that closely surrounded hers were left similarly without rapture at the view. They had all spent summers in chateaus and Christmases at medieval kings' old hunting lodges. They were used to this. Had they not been they still would not have admitted to being impressed; all of the elite were raised to never acknowledge anything that could compromise their dignity.

Narcissa had been musing over the reactions of the other students. She's read somewhere that the greatest muggle architecture was either left to crumble or run like some sort of museum. No wonder some students were awed by the grandness of the place that they would learn, eat and sleep in for months at a time. So lost was she in her own thoughts, that when the boat bumped to the shore she had not taken in the journey. The three girls were helped ashore by the courtesy that pure-blood mothers ingrained into their sons sub-conscious and then all the first years were hustled into the entrance hall to await their summons and their fate.

Packed together like this, it was the first time the new students could get a real look at each other. While she knew she was slender, Narcissa had not realised how tall she was for a girl of her age. She stood half a head shorter than the tallest boy, but was quite possibly on par with the tallest girls. Narcissa also noticed how most students seemed to have formed alliances already. They were huddled in groups - some seemingly random while other groups were apparently formed on basis of wealth, or magical experience. Her own group with the pure bloods stood out for their impeccably fitted and tailor made robes, their fairly casual conversation (as opposed to the excited babble) and their general air of superiority. It was their and plain to see: confidence, power, certainty – it swirled around the children of this elite like the weightlessly fine cloaks they had made for them in summer.

Narcissa could feel the slightest of butterflies in her stomach, but she schooled herself, her face remained impassive, calm, arrogant. She certainly was not fanning her hands by her face and squealing 'I'm going to be sick' over and over like the girl a few people from Narcissa. 'No need to worry. We're always Slytherins and I have the traits: pragmatic, smart and subtle. No need to worry' she told herself in her head. She doubted a little… what would her parents think of a Hufflepuff?! But before she could thoroughly explore that line of thought the grand doors they had all been watching were flung wide.

"We are ready for you now. Follow me please" said the sedate voice of the deputy head.

The first years, as a pack, obeyed. Moving forward in a unit they shuffled forward into the massive space of the Great Hall. Gasps and exclamations spread through the group – 'yes, a night sky and enchanted, we can see' thought Narcissa, becoming impatient under the stress of her nerves. She glanced right – four staring rows of Hufflepuff and Gryffindor faces. She glanced left and was reassured. Beyond the curious faces of the Rvenclaws was the rows of the Slytherin table. Their faces were shrewd, assessing, many bearing traits she recognised from family friends and distant relatives and somewhere amongst them her sisters. Bellatrix and Andromeda, the links to her past and two facts of her future were here and they was rooting for Narcissa.

Narcissa's smile fell back into place, bright, confident – to the point of cocky. She **knew** she was Slytherin, just as she **knew** any house would be lucky to have her. Heiress of one of the oldest and richest bloodlines as well as a promising witch in her own right, Narcissa knew she could do this. It was only a hat! Just an old Hat at the end of the day and whatever it might say she was a Black first and foremost and blood is thicker than water (or house points). Remaining calm and level headed she watched as the first half dozen students were called up and took their quivering place under the hat.

"Black, Narcissa" the voice rang out clearly. Her heart jolted with adrenaline but Narcissa's feet carried her forward on instinct – or perhaps years of her mother's voice in her ear 'Be a swan Narcissa!'. Whatever it was, Narcissa found herself perched on the tall stool with a tinge of heat in her cheeks warning her that later she would be admonished by Bellatrix for blushing. Blushing was an involuntary habit of Narcissa's and her mother and elder sister thoroughly disapproved – it showed a lack of composure and suggested the 'blusher' doubted her worth. The way they saw it, the habit must be trained out before it could cause some damage to the Black name. Luckily, the large hat was soon set on her head and it sank low enough to hide her glowing cheek bones.

"Ah, the third Black sister" said the hat in a low voice which Narcissa couldn't be sure was in her ear for it could be within her head. "I wondered when I'd be seeing you. Of course, we both know what you're expecting… but perhaps a little soft for a slytherin eh? Then there's this brain and all that **extra special** potential-"

'My hair, I know' Narcissa thought back impatiently – her nerves getting the better of her.

"Quick witted for Ravenclaw **and ** bold for Gryffindor. Blacks rarely take so long to place… there's that kindness too… oh I know what you want and may serve you just as well as the others. Alright, SLYTHERIN!"

The hat was lifted from her and Narcissa blinked in the light. She heard the loud clapping from the previously quiet Slytherin table and fancied it was a little louder than it had been for the other fist years sorted there. Smiling she stepped down from the stool and off the stone dais to take her place on the great wooden table of Slytherin. Congratulations were offered as she was introduced to the older students immediately around her. Among them was a third year that she recognised but had not really spoken too. Lucius Malfoy (of **the** aristocratic Malfoys) was already becoming a handsome young man. He smiled graciously at Narcissa, but his shrewd grey eyes remained reserved and calculating.

'A Slytherin through and through that one' Narcissa thought as they settled down to watch the rest of the sorting. She winced inwardly. That made being a Slytherin sound like bad thing and she was a Slytherin now – for better or worse this was her school family. And of course, it could only really be for better. These students were her equals in class, culture, heritage, status, upbringing and expectations. She belong here, with her sisters, with her equals.

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	3. Playing The Part

**Thank you! **I didn't think anyone was reading. Any comments or suggestions would be gratefull appreciated, but I know you aren't here to hear me ramble so I shall restrain myself. Enjoy.

Discalimer: I do not, unfortunately, own Harry Potter or any recognisable content - all credit to JK Rowling.

**Chapter 3**

The sorting passed in a blur of clapping politely for most students and clapping with more enthusiasm for those sorted into Slytherin. One of her Mother's favourite sayings was 'breeding will out' and it seemed that way in that year's sorting. Narcissa saw everyone from her compartment sorted into Slytherin, and only one unexpected first year joined their number. A small, fearful looking thing called Amelia she had doe wide eyes that only fellow Slytherin's would recognise as calculating. Discrete speculation as to her blood status spread along the length of the Slytherin table until the low rumble of voices was cut off by Professor Dippet rising to make his speech.

"Welcome one and all" the elderly Headmaster began, smiling ceremoniously around the room. "Another year of learning lies ahead of us, and I am sure we are all anxious to be settling in and developing our skills. I have only two announcements to make: the first, that Professor Carmichael will be taking over Care of Magical Creatures this year. The second that Mr Argus Filch has been appointed Chief Caretaker of the school and shall be treated with the respect afforded to other members of staff by all students. And now, let the Feast begin."

The Headmaster clapped his hands and the golden tableware before the students magically filled with tantalising food – a great variety of dishes appeared, all designed to satisfy the hungriest of teenage appetites among the hordes of students. Once again, Narcissa found herself half smiling and half smirking at the gasps heard from the far side of the room. The children of pure-bloods were generally served in this manner. Any family that wanted to protect its reputation had at least a dozen house elves with several devoted to kitchen duties. Thus they were used to delicious food appearing before them as if summoned by thought alone.

The Slytherin table was not prone to the wild bantering nature of other houses. Listening in to the conversations around her as she loaded her plate with cottage pie, peas and gravy, Narcissa could hear that most conversations focussed on the summer holidays. Indeed, they were mostly competitive – who'd seen the most and best professional quiditch, who'd spent longest at their family chateau, and who'd made the best connections with the ancient wizarding communities of Alexandria, Venice and Florence. She picked up Lucius Malfoy's drawling tones easily – he wasn't speaking particularly loudly, but those around him had fallen silent in apparent deference.

"Yes, Father and I did spend some time with the Minister on his trip to Paris. Father was involved in helping our Minister procure a deal with the French and we stayed in the Ministry's Chateau for a few days afterwards. The Minister is always saying how there's no one like a Malfoy for a challenging game of wizard's chess…" His voice trailed on but Narcissa stopped paying attention. The Minister for magic – a family friend – that wasn't something to be sniffed at… She filed the information away (planning to tell Bellatrix and check that there family were sure to invite Mr and Mrs Malfoy to **all** of their upcoming functions) and turned to the girl next to her.

Helena was watching Narcissa with knowing eyes. Discrete as Narcissa had been, Helena was trained in the courtly arts too and knew that they were all playing a game. Both of them, as heiresses to wizarding fortunes and great names, were here to forge alliances and keep an ear to the ground for changes in the political sphere, as well as to learn. They would keep their wits about them, filter boasts from truth and report back with their findings. Every pure blood had a role to play in keeping their families name noble, girls especially. If that name was sullied then their prospects dwindled – and their hopes of an alliance to promote that name worsened too. Narcissa, Andromeda and Bellatrix were all here to play their part, do their duty and fulfil their role.

So that is what Narcissa did. She ate daintily as she had been trained, looked around with a smile that never took her over enough to keep her eyes from shrewdly taking everything in, and chatted wittily almost always using her 'politeness laugh'. The mysterious Amelia charmed her rare and private real laugh from her with a cheeky comment to the first year girls about Lucius Malfoy and his broom stick (the masculine bravado having moved on to sport at that end of the table). By the end of the feast Narcissa felt she had more or less the measure of everyone within her range at the table, as well as gathering some information on the political lay of the land. She even felt she had nurtured a potential seed of genuine friendship with Helena and Amelia, and Marius Bulstrode whose green eyes had settled on her with at least the semblance of real warmth.

Professor Dippet cheerfully bid them all 'Good night and enchanted sleep' before instructing the Prefects to lead their prospective first years to their common rooms. Following in the wake of a very dignified sixth year student – the proud owner of a silver shield-like badge bearing a green P – and the other first year Slytherins, Narcissa walked from the hall to the entrance hall. They began a journey that seemed to Narcissa quite ostentatiously convoluted. She knew the common room was in the dungeons and she was suspicious that it took them quite so long to start to head downwards – was the Prefect showing off? Narcissa had her suspicions.

Eventually the Prefect stopped in a rather bleak and dank corridor and the first years assembled behind him. "This is the entrance to the Slytherin dungeons" here he gestured to the deceptively solid looking stone wall. "You require a password to get in. The password will be changed every fortnight and posted on the notice board within. Luckily for you we are starting simple this year. For two weeks the password will remain as _Salazar-" _and with this the wall slid obligingly backwards and to the side "-I trust you will be able to remember it."

With that the prefect strode into the common room and over to some guys his own age – apparently his part in their induction was over. On first impressions Narcissa thought the common room appropriately grand; there were many plush leather sofas in dark inky green and black and elegant lamps that complimented the cool green light coming through the high windows that looked out onto the lake. The sound of water, now she noticed the lake, was quiet and soothing (Narcissa hoped she would be able to hear it from her room, she had trouble sleeping more often than not). There were also grand tapestries in rich dark colours depicting medieval Slytherin wizards on quests and such, although these did little to diminish the chill of the black marble floor and cool eerie light that seeped from the lake.

Looking around further, Narcissa noticed Andromeda sat with a group of students on black sofas close to the fire. Murmuring a brief goodbye to Helena and Amelia who had walked with her from the great hall, she left the clutch of first years. She went to Andromeda and perched on the leather arm next to her sister. Turning Andromeda briefly squeezed her hand and winked – she'd done well. Subtly the sisters inquired if the other were okay, watching for discrete signs that the other was not. They were a team and could communicate any problems without alerting the ever-watchful Slytherins to any weakness.

All was well, it turned out and Narcissa pecked her sisters cheek and turned to catch sight of Bellatrix who infinitesimally nodded her head. Imperceptible to most, but a clear sign to Narcissa that she had played her part well thus far and was dismissed for the night, if she wished to be. Smiling gratefully Narcissa checked enough of the first years had already gone to bed (she would not appear weak), and headed up the stairs to her dormitory. It had been a long day, and though it had gone as well as she had hoped, Narcissa was tired. She was to be constantly alter for trouble and conscious of her own and her family's dignity while here: she had been occupied thus nearly all day and there would only be more tomorrow.


	4. Meeting Greatness

Hi Guys, Thank you for reading! I hope you are enjoying it... please could someone leave a review to say if you are? I can see how many are reading but I've no idea if you like it. Let me know?

Discalimer: I am not, and have never been, J K Rowling - who is the owner and creatpr of Harry Potter and all recognisable content.

**Chapter 4**

Narcissa woke up slowly, stretching lazily on the green silk of her sheets. She glanced at the alarm clock on her bedside table and calculated that she could afford at least a few moments in bed thinking. Her eyes had not taken long to adjust – the gauzy fabric of her bed curtains did little to block the light, but it was not long after dawn and the sun had yet to illuminate the lake that lay beyond the windows – and Narcissa stared unseeingly up at the bed's canopy. She could hear the soft sounds of the other girls breathing deeply and was assured she had time for herself this morning.

They had been given their time-tables at the end of the feast last night and Narcissa contemplated the day ahead with slightly wary anticipation. Growing up surrounded by magic meant that Narcissa had a theoretical knowledge of a few basics, having seen her parents and acquaintances perform spells that seemed (to a child's eyes) utterly natural to them, as well as experiencing port keys and along-side apparation. Magic was her way of life, but up until now she had been more or less dormant in it. There had been signs, of course. It was fabled in family history that she had floated her favourite owl teddy from its place on the shelf into her cot when it had not been brought to her quick enough. She could almost remember when, at seven years old, she had blasted a squabbling Bellatrix and Andromeda to opposite ends of the drawing room. Aged ten, she had actually managed to apparate herself from her bedroom to the grounds when a house elf had been trying to cajole her into a party dress. Other than those rare occasions, however, she had been on the side lines of magic. As all of those actions had been involuntary after all, she was acutely aware that she was a novice with great things expected of her. Great things… with that thought Narcissa swung her legs out of bed and parted the fine material of her bed curtains. Greatness lay before her and she would not keep it waiting.

Like all houses, the Slytherins slept in dormitories; theirs however afforded more privacy to the occupants. Narcissa's bed was in an alcove connected to the rest of the dormitory, and the bathroom, by a stone arch way with a thick velvet curtain of bottle green that could be swept across or left open as her needs demanded. Already Narcissa was beginning to feel at home in the little space. Her things had been here when she arrived last night: Her trunk stood at the foot of the four poster bed, her robes hung in the wardrobe and her silver backed hair brush and hand mirror (which were heirlooms bearing the family crest) stood ready on the dresser.

Indeed, the room was so well suited to her needs that on reaching the floor her feet found the familiar warmth of her slippers. Standing up Narcissa was a little surprised to hear the crack of apparation. Spinning around she prepared to glare at the intruder…

"Floss has come to be of service now Mistress is getting up" the house elf declared proudly. Narcissa chastised her own forgetfulness. Her family kept around a dozen house elves and one, usually Floss, was always at Hogwarts to assist the daughters of the noble house of Black whenever were required. Floss was most popular for the job as she basically fulfilled the role of lady's maid – dressing their hair, smoothing any unanticipated creases from their clothes and generally fussing after their well-fare while their mother could only fuss through parchment and ink.

"Ahh Floss" Narcissa greeted "Thank you but no. I am sure my sisters will be awake soon, but that will be all for me this morning." With that Narcissa smiled and nodded her dismissal. She did not wish to be molly-coddled this morning and besides, the other girls would be waking up soon and she would not have herself seen as a show off if it turned out their families did not send an elf with them. She gathered her school robes and moved over to the bathroom, still in her cream silk nightdress and cashmere wrap.

Having showered, Narcissa dressed quickly and dried her hair as thoroughly as she could without magical assistance – eventually giving up on a perfect job. She tied her hair back in a simple chignon, hoping it would stay in place for the rest of the day. She came out of the bathroom to find the other girls in different stages of getting up. She simply nodded or said good morning to them, until Amelia came over to her in something of a rush and pleaded that Narcissa wait ten minutes and go down to breakfast with her. Seeing no harm in waiting Narcissa agreed and went to fetch her book and wait on the chaise in the main part of the dormitory.

….

Arriving in the Great Hall with Amelia and Helena – who had joined them as they headed out of the common room – Narcissa smiled a greeting to her sisters as she passed them and nodded to those she had met last night. The girls found a spot about half way down the Slytherin table and took seats together in a row. They chatted amicably, talking about their parents reactions to them leaving for school, when the post would arrive and of course, the day of lessons ahead. The second of September fell on a Wednesday and first year Slytherin's had a packed schedule ahead of them. The girls were just beginning to discuss what magic they had accomplished before when they were disturbed by the arrival of the post.

Owls swooped in from the high great windows, many bearing the long paper rolls of the Daily Prophet and a many also bearing smaller squares of parchment that indicated more personal correspondence. They swooped around the hall in a feathery whirl, intermittently birds would spot their quarry (or owner) and pitch themselves at a spot on one of the great tables. Looking up at the admittedly impressive spectacle, Narcissa spotted a flash of richer gold among the fluid mass of grey and brown. A moment later her Father's Phoenix 'Phineas' (a proud Black family name for a proud Black family bird) landed on the table before her. Breaking the waxy seal bearing the Black family crest and absently offering Phineas a crust of her toast, Narcissa began to read…


	5. The Road to Greatness

Hey Guys, I'm trying to update regularly because I have a feeling that mght be the main reason you're reading. Please do, someone (anyone) review. One line of comment or suggestion really would be wonderful to read. Enough of my pleas, enjoy!

**Disclaimer:** J K Rowling created and owns Harry Potter and all recognisable content. I am not J K Rowling.

...

_My Dear Narcissa,_

_Congratulations on being sorted in to Slytherin, we are very proud. Bellatrix wrote to us briefly last night and told us you conducted yourself with the utmost propriety throughout your first day – although we would expect nothing else. _

_Good luck with your first day, not that you will need it, magic is in your blood. Remember that you are from a long line of wizards and witches who were always among the most skilled, powerful and revered of their time. Such a heritage commands respect from others but also demands that we fulfil specific obligations. You know what we expect Narcissa and I know you will not let me down. _

_In times of strife you can always right to me and while at school you can look to your sisters. The Blacks are a unit and any success benefits us all, your sisters are there to help you just as your role is to assist them wherever possible. _

_All my love_

_From your father, Cygnus Black._

_PS Your mother bids me remind you to watch your blushing._

_Toujours Pur_

Smiling and resisting the urge to roll her eyes, Narcissa folded the thick parchment and tucked it into the inner pocket of her robes. She appreciated the encouragement, but surely so much emphasis on doing her duty was unnecessary? She'd been doing her duty for as long as she could remember. In fact, she couldn't remember the last time she hadn't had the ulterior motive of duty for any action she performed. Taking pride in her appearance: duty. Trying to do well at anything: duty. Making friends with, and impressing, the right people: duty.

'I have a constant preoccupation with duty' thought Narcissa as she swung her satchel over her shoulder and made for her first lesson of the day. The first years Slytherins made their way back down to the Dungeons in a loose group – Marius leading the way and holding the doors for the Slytherin girls while he chatted to Narcissa and Helena about his trip to Egypt in the summer. He was just describing the way the geometrically perfect pyramids could be used to channel and gather magical energy when they arrived outside the potion's classroom.

The first year Hufflepuffs were beginning to assemble in a line by the door and the Slytherins moved to lean against the wall, distinct from the Hufflepuffs and barely acknowledging their presence, but not sparring with them as they might the Gryffindors. They were all a little early that morning. The Slytherins due to a shared appreciation for the value of first impressions, the Hufflepuffs due to a general docility and a desire to abide by the rules. They were a good match for the first lesson. In general the Slytherins, while not really feeling affection for any other house, did not see the Hufflepuffs as enough of a threat to cause trouble. The Hufflepuffs in their turn were unlikely to be riled by any Slytherin arrogance and would not start trouble without severe provocation. Narcissa was glad. She would be able to concentrate on her first ever lesson at Hogwarts.

"First years! Excelent, come in come in" urged the enthusiastic man (who Narcissa knew to be Slughorn) from the door way.

The first years filed in to the dark classroom and took their places – four to a desk – around the tables set with caldrons and scales. The room was musty and had a general aroma of damp and something… herby. Not edible, but aromatic and at first the layering of scent made Narcissa want to sneeze. Quickly though, she became accustomed and began to pick out individual and familiar notes from her family's potion cupboard. The students became aware of a peculiar popping noise. It came from the small cauldron on the teacher's desk – but popping was still a better description than bubbling.

The noise brought the student's attention back to the rotund Professor who stood smiling around at them from behind the larger desk. He made sure he had everyone's attention and then paused a moment longer for dramatic effect.

"Good morning class, I am your potions master Professor Slughorn. This year I will be helping you to develop your skills in the useful skill and precious art of potion making. Today we will be starting nice and easy with a potion that is difficult to get wrong – and causes no real malady if made a little imperfectly." With this he smiled around at the class as though he had every confidence in them "If you will please turn to page 16 of your text book, you may begin."

Narcissa turned to the aforementioned page and briefly calculated the amount of time the laughing potion would take to concoct and brew – she knew they had a double lesson. Realising she had plenty of time, she scanned through all of the instructions once before rising to collect ingredients from the supply cupboards. Something of a crowd had gathered there by this point and the Slytherin boys were manfully pressing through to fetch supplies and pass them back to the Slytherin girls. A Hufflepuff guy who noticed this chivalry turned a little red, but seeing that most of the Hufflepuff girls had already returned to their seats he just shrugged and walked back with his own supplies. That really summed up the difference between Hufflepuffs and a Slytherin: they were happy to be average.

As the students all began to reach the brewing stage Professor Slughorn took a tour of the room, peering into caldrons and passing comment. He reached Narcissa just as she was stirring the potion in a figure of eight that was aiding it's transmission from grey to purple.

"Promising" he declared as he leant in to assess the colour and consistency of the potion, and to sniff at the steam which was forming tight spirals as it rose in the draftless chamber. Smiling to herself Narcissa continued to follow the instructions in her book precisely. She had completed the instructions and extinguished the small fire under her caldron around five minutes before Professor Slughorn called them to a stop.

With a lazy flick of his wand the teacher sent a cylindrical glass bottle and a cork floating to each student. Instructing them to decant most of their potion, he informed the first years that such potions took a little while to mature. He would assess their potions at the next lesson where they would be tested with a drop or two of the stuff to measure the extent of their mirth – and the quality of the laughing potion itself. The best three batches of potion would earn house points for the brewer. With that promise and a reminder that he had an open door policy and students could come to him with any questions (this last was mostly directed at the Slytherins, he was their Head of House after all) he dismissed the class.

Thus ended Narcissa's first lesson at Hogwarts, the first step in her official magical training. She told herself she had done well - she'd been challenged a little, but felt it had been far from beyond her capabilities. Narcissa began to the feel the impatience that comes from curiosity, liberally applied with confidence, to begin her new lessons and continue on her road to greatness.


	6. Plans, Principles and House Pride

Hello everyone, thank you so much for reading. An extra special thank you to Stacey for being my first ever reviewer and earning my eternal grattitude - it was so lovely to read and very encouraging. I do love reviews, I now know what other writers have been talking about.

Disclaimer: Harry Potter and all recognisable content belongs to J.K Rowling and not to me - I am borrowing and embroidering.

Enjoy!

**Chapter 6**

The rest of the day passed quickly, with an especial burst of speed at lunch. In charms class Marius and Narcissa sat together to work on making notes from the text book about the Alohamorah spell. At lunch Narcissa sat across from him and was entertained by anecdotes of his big brother's run-ins with the old care taker. 'There's something about him…' she thought, 'for a Slytherin he's not too wrapped up in his own dignity'.

After lunch she'd experienced Herbology under the strict gaze of Professor Chadwick – Head of Ravenclaw and commander of a general resentment from most students. He had been known to issue detentions of potting the youngest Mandrake seedlings without the benefit of ear-muffs. In his defence, the plants weren't even old enough to cause a student to be knocked out. They had, however, caused the offending Gryffindors (who had only been flicking seed pods at each other) to spend three days in the hospital wing with intermittent migraines and mild deafness.

Needless to say that Professor Dippet had stepped in and Chadwick was prohibited from meeting out that punishment. This was of little consequence to the House of Gryffindor - whose members have all carried a personal grudge ever since. Even the usually impartial Slytherins disliked the Professor. He showed indiscriminate favouritism to his own house; the Slytherins only accepted favouritism that was either based on real merit or, preferably, benefitted them. His unashamed bias to anyone with blue lined robes was an insult to their pride and a nuisance in their quest for the House Cup.

Narcissa hadn't exactly known what to expect when she'd waited outside the greenhouses but she had heard Bellatrix and Andromeda's moaning about him. She wasn't disappointed. Her sister's hadn't exaggerated. Throughout the double lesson, which they shared with the first year Ravenclaws, Slytherin successes were ignored and the slightest misdemeanours were chastised harshly. Poor Amelia lost Slytherin five house points for knocking over a bag of compost.

Frustrated and disheartened Narcissa had left the Green Houses with the other Slytherins, all muttering about bringing the now smug Ravenclaws down a peg or too. During the lesson the Ravenclaws had gained a total of fifteen House Points and were clearly pleased with themselves as they swaggered up one of the paths to the castle in a group. The Ravenclaws had been well prepared and volunteered answers to a lot of Chadwick's questions. But Narcissa had answered a question about Devil's Snare that everyone agreed was worth at least three points and Marius had put his hand up to answer questions several times and been ignored.

At dinner the Slytherin first years were sat, more or less, together as they discussed the events of the day and enjoyed the fruits of the house elve's labours. Again the talk turned to the unfairness of the Herbology lesson and the need to teach the Ravenclaws Slytherins would not be mocked. It was agreed that with a little thought they could exact a revenge that would not land Slytherin in trouble, but would tell the Ravenclaws that one biased teacher did not make them superior. They were beginning to hatch a plan (and they thought they'd been speaking quietly to avoid alerting the Ravenclaws on the next table) when three third year boys slid into the gaps on their benches. Malfoy, Crabbe and Dolohov. They nodded around at the group and Malfoy spoke, clearly accustomed to taking charge and voicing the other's thoughts.

"Couldn't help over hearing that you want to take those Ravenclaws down a peg and teach old Chadwick something of a lesson. The Ravenclaws in our year could do with being humbled too and, if your plan isn't too juvenile, you can count us in.' with this he smirked 'You could probably use some more advanced magic anyway' here he winked in the direction of Helena and Narcissa.

The girls blushed and nodded eagerly, pleased with the attention and happy to accept help with their mission. In fact, the first years quickly agreed that they would include the older boys in their plan. The only person who seemed unhappy with this arrangement was Marius. He'd looked affronted ever since they muscled in at the table and was frowning as though they had shown up uninvited at a party he was too polite to kick them out of. Noticing this. Narcissa deferred comments about their plan so far to Marius. In the interest of diplomacy she allowed him to monopolise the conversation on behalf of the first years – after all, he had been thinking up the best ideas before the others showed up.

….

Lying in bed that night and musing over the day, Narcissa found she was distracted from memories of her premier lessons with thoughts of the boys and their plans for revenge. Marius had been making her laugh all day and she was finding she really enjoyed his company. Yet when Malfoy and the others had offered their services, he'd threatened to sulk like a toddler. She'd had to wield extra tact to manage the situation without ruffling feathers. Malfoy, on the other hand, had charmed everyone round. His suggested alterations to their work-in-progress plans did make sense, and the spells he claimed he could perform were impressive. Not to mention he had flirted teasingly with the girls and joked with the boys until they weren't offended that he saw flaws in their plans.

It wasn't just a prank to the Slytherins, it was a matter of principle and of pride. The way they saw it, someone was questioning their dignity, and Narcissa could not dispute any action when that insult was the motive. She would play her part in this scheme – even if it did seem a little petty now her blood had cooled in the evening air. After all, she had the wit to make sure she would not be implicated if something went wrong and the events in Herbology had slurred her House and put a dampener on her first day. It was traditional for Slytherins to spar with Gryffindors but, having had no lesson with them, Narcissa was quite happy with a little plot to deflate the collective Ravenclaw ego. She turned out her lamp and her last coherent thought was along the lines of 'let the games begin'.


	7. An Intriging Note

Hello everyone. Thank you so much for reading - if anyone has a moment to write a line in review I'd love to know what you think. I hope you enjoy.

Disclaimer: I am not J K Rowling and she is the genius creatorr of all recognisable content.

**Chapter 7**

By Friday evening Narcissa had gotten a sample of all of her subjects and teachers, except for History of Magic which she could not say she was too excited about. The work had been simple enough – the Professors were clearly easing them in – and Narcissa had occupied herself assessing the character of the people she met.

Professor Slughorne was worth cultivating, she decided, because a little effort would help her excel in his class and bring the benefits of the fabled 'Slug Club'. Professor Dumbledore had earned her respect with his wisdom and fairness: Slytherin and Gryffindor first years shared Transfiguration and, despite being head of Gryffindor house, Dumbledore had indiscriminately praised them all as their actions deserved. Professor Chadwick, contrastingly, continued to be a proverbial thorn in Slytherin's metaphorical side. Narcissa reached the conclusion that he was too absorbed in House pride to take pride in his professional integrity and thus she found him rather irrational.

When it came to students she was continuing with an open mind. Her first lesson of Transfiguration marked her first lesson with the Gryffindor students and, while they were louder and more prone to joking around than the Slytherins, they were smart enough to make challenging peers. Challenge in lessons, she thought, is a good thing – it promotes the learning of all and discourages complacency. What's more Professor Dumbledore managed their rivalry well by keeping order without letting the lessons pause long enough to allow resentment to develop. She actually found some of the Gryffindors' goofing around quite amusing. She would never behave that way herself, but as long as they enjoyed acting the fool and it didn't disturb her lessons she did not mind their high spirits.

During the week she had also been spending time with the other first years, and with Marius in particular, after lessons to develop their plans for exacting revenge on the Ravenclaws. She had not intended to be especially involved in the minute detail of the plan, but Marius seemed to like having her there at their informal meetings. He called her over when she tried to get past their little gathering in the Common Room.

It was partly because of this that she was sat in the Library browsing through different volumes on Hogwarts' History – thinking that someone should condense all the useful information into one tome – on a Friday night. She'd had enough of this option and that idea and 'we'll show them' for one day. She'd probably had enough for the week actually, but duty called and it was bound to come up in conversation during the weekend.

All through dinner the first years had talked about their great scheme. 'It's enough to drive one to distraction' Narcissa thought as she began to despair of any other conversation. She was just starting to let out her frustration by discretely stabbing at her bakewell tart with more vehemence than strictly necessary when something in the air caught her eye. This was the other half of her reason for being in the Library. A tiny white bird, its papery wings unfurled and deftly steering through the dangerous sea of floating candles, was riding the breeze above everyone's line of vision. Narcissa had only seen it because she'd been subtly rolling her eyes and mentally asking Merlin for strength - she hadn't been sleeping well and was falling short of patiencethis week. The bird continued on its way then angled its fragile shell of a body down and fluttered straight into her lap…

Back in the present Narcissa had pulled the charmed parchment out of her pocket and placed in on top of the page she was reading. She ran her index finger over the precise ridges where the note had been folded and reread the words there. The words which had lightened her mood in that dull dinner, and kept her subconscious busy all evening:

_To Miss Narcissa Black,_

_I hope you have enjoyed your first week and that the… less varied company of the first years is not too distasteful. I sense you have more of a refined pallet- and that when it comes to our mission you would rather mull things over intermittently than exhaust the topic constantly. I hope you know that you may seek me out when things become too… repetitive with them and their cyclical conversation._

_As a gesture of good will I have something to show you which is of interest _and_ relevant to our plot. Meet me by the third floor tapestry of the drunken goblin – it is across from the Charms classroom – tomorrow at 10 am. _

_Your faithful servant,_

_Lucius Malfoy_

She hadn't read the note right away, instead when the first years had gotten up and left the Great Hall she had made her excuses and parted from them. She'd ducked into an empty passage and, with a tinge of regret, unfolded the paper sparrow. Since that moment her mind had been whirring away on what had prompted the note, what his secret weapon was, and why he had chosen to tell her. Despite training to expect the best of everything and all special attention as only her due, Narcissa was naturally inclined to question why he had singled her out – why he had noticed at all that she was fed up of the constant talk of 'The Plan'.

She'd retreated to the library. She had little enough homework but wanted some space to think. If she kept her conscious mind busy on the books, her subconscious was free to explore the implications of the letter without making Narcissa worry. She knew that reading anything comforted and relaxed her, giving her relief from the problem, and often the problem was miraculously solved when she returned to it on closing the book. It wouldn't hurt to get in the librarian's good books by spending time here studying without a gaggle of students creating noise – having a good reputation with the person who controlled the Restricted Section could come in very handy.

With this in mind, Narcissa settled down in her quiet corner of the library and explored the castle through the secrets unlocked in parchment and ink before her. She was in no hurry to return to the Common Room. The ceaseless talk of the plot to get Ravenclaw had dulled the company of even her closest friends and Narcissa found that, once again, she was indulging herself with the blessed relief of her own company. Although she was not acting against her duty – she was learning and in a way making herself seem unobtainable to the others after all – she felt she was not forced to by the books. If she did her duty or not they would hold the same information, offer the same relief and escape.


	8. Mind Your Own Business

Hello Lovelies! Thank you all for reading, and thanks especially to Thomas - your review made me so happy I was ready to take on my two exams this morning and I'm still buoyant now. If anyone wants a sure fire way to bring about elation, review someone's writing - doesn't even have to be mine - just a line will make them want to write more and better and bigger. Thanks for reading and enjoy.

Disclaimer: I am not J K Rowling - I'm not even cool enough to know her - and she is the lady who owns and created Harry Potter and all the stuff I have pinched for this story. Thank you JK!

**Chapter 8**

Saturday morning was bright for September, casting cool green light through the windows of the Slytherin dormitories and, throughout the Castle, waking those students not too determined to laze in bed for as long as they could. Narcissa got up scarcely ten minutes later than she had in the week, but allowed herself the luxury of a long soak in the bath. She'd checked out some lighter reading from the library (a fictional account of Morgana's less famous escapades) and knew she could afford a little time alone with her book.

Sinking into the hot bubbly water was good. Floss had turned up earlier and offered to prepare the bath for her, but Narcissa had dismissed her – she had, however, accepted the offer of rose petals. It was something her mother had always insisted on: 'ladies deserve as much hot water as they wish, and fresh flowers for fragrance'. Narcissa couldn't argue with the demand, she enjoyed it and the flowers were more practical than they seemed. The water that swirled around her now in the large tub wasn't just fragrant, but smooth somehow – it also softened the skin. Different flowers had different effects and fresh herbs were often used as a masculine alternative… Narcissa ran over in her mind which petals she would recommend for stress, for confidence, for positivity... while she washed in the soothing heat of the water.

She took up her book and read, enjoying the frivolous story and the sweet steam that was gardually turning her skin a little pick. She stayed in the warmth for a while, but quickly got out and dressed when she heard the others chatting and moving around in the bathroom. It was a big space with magically heated marble flaws and a deep green ocean (depicted in stain glass) for a ceiling. More of a cathedral than a bathroom, it appealed to a Slytherin's sense of the theatrical as well as their feeling of entitlement to have all things grand and ostentatious. The baths were in stalls, but the 'stalls' were lined with hand painted tiles and really had enough spare room for a minor dual. Everything exuded status, wealth and luxury.

Emerging from one such stall, a damp towel over one arm, Narcissa bid them all good morning and promised to see them at breakfast. The girls seemed a little abashed, but agreed easily enough and Narcissa didn't give them time to ask her questions as she sauntered from the bathroom and back to her personal space. She had a plan for the extra time on her hands this morning, and she would be implementing it with discretion – and that meant no crowd.

…

It was 9:15 and Narcissa knew she did not have to rush, plenty of time for a leisurely breakfast once she just checked… rounding a corner on the third floor, Narcissa casually meandered past the stoic suits of armour, there really were rows and rows of them. And then, suddenly, aha! There it was. She was pleased to have spotted it now, it was one less thing to worry about later. Satisfied with her detour, Narcissa brooked no change in her outward demeanour - except perhaps the imperceptible hint of a smile at one mouth corner, and the barest suspicion of a blush to her cheeks.

…

Arriving in the Great Hall for breakfast, Narcissa slid into her now customary spot between Helena and Amelia and across from Marius. She helped herself to ham and eggs and filled a goblet with pumpkin juice from the flagon. She glanced up to find the selection of first years in the immediate vicinity all looking between her and Marius – whose face was tense with suspicion.

"Excuse me, am I missing something?" She queried mildly, scanning the faces turned towards her – skilfully avoiding lingering on Marius's unhappy expression.

"Where'd you get to Narcissa? The girls said you left before them, and they've been here ages-" seeing the unimpressed look on her face, he switched tack "-I was worried." he added with notably less outrage in his tone. Irritation flared in her blood and flashed in her eyes, though she answered with her best faux smile.

"Aww Marius, your concern is really too sweet, but I assure you I am quite well and quite capable of navigating the Castle on my own." Her cool voice and hard eyes showed that she was not happy with such interference but, seeing him become crestfallen, she reached across the table and squeezed the hand he had held out in entreaty. "_Quite_ well" she qualified earnestly and offered him the warmth of a more genuine smile.

It was darn annoying. It was an insult to think she needed such extreme concern and a liberty to assume he should provide it. But he had meant well, a calmer part of her reasoned, and her duty told her she would not cause a rift in her House – certainly not in public and not with one of her closest allies. Irritated she was, but she had proved that she would not be controlled or mollycoddled and she didn't _want _to have to fall out with Marius. He was clever, kind, funny, but she was resigned to spending most of her life as a trophy-wife-come-courtier and she was not prepared to lose her freedom yet.

As the conversation around her slowly swelled back to normal levels, Narcissa ate her breakfast and mulled over that little episode. She was quite surprised when Andromeda appeared over her shoulder. Looking up and recognising one of her sister's own 'faux smiles', Narcissa was immediately wary and concerned. Andromeda gripped her shoulder and bent low, her thick hair screening the pair from the curious first year's view.

"In her great wisdom, our elder sister has called a family meeting tonight. It'll be at 8, I'll find you after dinner." With the last of this whisper, she kissed Narcissa's cheek and strode off down the Hall.

A little while later she was engaged in conversation by Carlotta, who wanted to query the detail of their Charms assignment. Narcissa had done the work during her surplus time in the Library last night, and obligingly filled her in on what was expected. During their conversation she smiled reassuringly at Marius every time he caught her eye – he'd been fighting a kicked puppy expression ever since she'd used those icily polite tones with him.

She felt a little guilty, but it wasn't enough for her to own up where she was really off to a little while later when she made her excuses and slipped out of the Hall. No, this was one thing she was keeping to herself. For now at least.


	9. Curisoity Sated

**Author's note: **Hello everyone, thank you so much for reading, it's amazing to know I'm reaching someone. I'd llike to express my sympathies to my American readers and all those affected by the disaster in Oaklahoma. Living 'safe' here in the UK we don't get freak storms that are anything like that, but our prayers and thoughts are with you.

**Disclaimer:** Harry Potter and all recognisable content belongs to J K Rowling and not to me.

**Chapter 9**

Narcissa took the shortest route back to the third floor; it was almost ten and she didn't want to be late. Or early, for that matter. But she was quite sure Malfoy wasn't the type to hang around waiting if someone slurred him by showing up behind schedule. Just before she turned the last corner, Narcissa smoothed down her hair and straightened the more casual clothes she was wearing for the weekend – Dark blue flared jeans and a white shirt with lace detailing. It was her duty to look presentable, after all.

Walking down the length of the next corridor she could make out a figure. Casually, she strode forward her eyes fixed on this person… the figure was masculine… and yes, it was Malfoy she decided as she got closer. He was dressed informally too, in jeans of washed denim, a white t-shirt and a black leather jacket – Italian by the looks of it. In fact, it all looked decidedly designer, not that you would expect less from a Malfoy, and her own status demanded he dress with at least some care. She could have been rightly affronted if he had looked scruffy on meeting her.

She greeted him, "Morning Malfoy" with a simle as she reached his side.

He nodded to her "Miss Black. I'm glad you made it. How has your first week gone? If you'll just walk with me, we can get to business in a moment"

Narcissa obligingly followed his lead down the corridor. He ducked through a small door that she would never have noticed – as it was obscured by the statue in front of it – and led her into a steeply slanted passage. He was explaining that, although the passage didn't seem long, it was the quickest way from the third floor to the seventh, or vice versa.

Sure enough, they had been walking for less than a minute when they took a right and emerged from the passage. They shuffled along in the dark; Malfoy took a gentle hold of her wrist and guided her after him. 'What on earth…?' she began to question in her head. Suddenly they were out in the brightness of the top floor of Hogwarts, bright autumn light streaming in through the windows.

"Sorry about that, it was the quickest way, and I didn't think you'd know where" he gestured to the tapestry of Trolls attempting ballet behind them "this is. But it's really that wall we're interested in."

Narcissa turned to look at the wall… it was quite unremarkable. Made of old stone, slightly crumbling, like most of the Hogwarts building; it really didn't seem worthy of note at all. Listening to Malfoy though, her eyes widened and she stepped forward with curiosity.

He described having discovered it when he'd gotten behind on homework for Professor Chadwick (Narcissa had chuckled at this – even Lucius Malfoy couldn't smarm his way out of trouble with that Professor). He'd needed to research an essay badly, but it was past midnight and the Library was all locked up. At the time he'd not even been taught Alohamora. He was also still establishing his status with fellow Slytherins and would be damned before he asked them for help. Close to despairing of getting it done, he had aimlessly wandered the shadowy halls of the Castle – and found just what he needed.

He was pacing now, in front of the wall and he'd stopped with his story. Was he distressed? She wondered – it would take a great deal of concern to cause her to lose composure and do something so synonymous with losing control as pacing in public. But he looked well and when she started to speak he shook his head and gestured to the door. For a moment she just accepted, of course there was a door, it clearly belonged in that setting with the crumbly wall and the quiet corridor.

Yet it _hadn't_ been there before, she'd have _seen _it. She looked at him with dawning realisation "This is the place." She hadn't asked, she'd stated, but he answered to confirm her thoughts anyway.

They stepped inside and she looked around in wonder at the well-proportioned and perfectly appointed office space with its rows and rows of Herbology books. It was papered in dark green, had a stack of parchment and a selection of quills as well as cheerful charcoal fire in the grate. It was ideal, she could imagine a younger Malfoy looking around the room and having his belief in his own entitlement reaffirmed: even Hogwarts would do anything for him.

"I wrote to my Father at the time" he told her, "although I obviously didn't mention I'd almost fallen behind with work. He said he'd heard tell of a 'Come and Go Room'. I don't know if this it, or how it works, but we could use it to meet with the others and discuss the plans. I think some people are getting a bit suspicious, and we don't want our names tied up in intrigue if they investigate who got the Ravenclaws – when we do get them. Besides," and here he smirked his trade mark smirk that would always leave a legacy of fluttering hearts fluttering and reeling minds "this contribution might get that little boy off your case."

Narcissa blushed crimson. She was automatically inclined to defend Marius, bur her pride was still smarting from their earlier confrontation and she really was a bit fed up with the ceaseless talk of the Ravenclaw scheme. It wasn't just that though, it was that Lucius Malfoy had singled her out and was trying to help her. It was quite an honour and she knew it. He was from a family practically as ancient as hers, he was talented, excessively wealthy and his family were currently high flyers politically. This was a good opportunity and she couldn't justify going against her family obligations to risk offending him.

Her internal battle took only a moment and duty, of course, won. She merely smiled gratefully, abandoning her struggle for words to contend with the chagrin in her cheeks. He nodded, and led the way from the room. They walked back towards the dungeons in silence that was companionable enough. As it happened, they parted at the Entrance Hall. Malfoy offered to walk her back but Narcissa insisted it wasn't necessary and he headed out towards the Quiditch pitch where he said he'd be spending most of the day.

Narcissa in her turn took the steps down to the dungeon, considering when and what to tell the other first years. Although she was flattered, she should probably play down the fact that Lucius had singled her out to share in his knowledge. She couldn't cause a rift with her immediate peers; it was her responsibility to remain popular and well-respected. It shouldn't have been a problem, but the Slytherins were astute and might suspect and resent that Malfoy had done it more for her sake then the promotion of their plotting. Well, that was how he presented it anyway. Narcissa knew she was worthy of especial thought, but perhaps Malfoy was playing the game more thoroughly then she realised. They were all raised to take their part. She might only be a pawn now, but Narcissa would be queen one day and she had every intention of mastering the game ahead of time – it was the only way to survive.


	10. Letting It Slip

Hello everyone, I'm sorry this took a while to post. I got a bit caught up in how to portray the sisterly dynamic. I'm afraid I won't be posting too frequently this week either, I am going on holiday and the house I'm staying in has no wifi. I will try to post when I can, and will be typing away whatever happens. Thank you so much for reading, please review but most of all enjoy.

Disclaimer: I do not and have never owned Harry Potter or any recognisable content - credit for that goes to JK Rowling.

**Chapter 10**

It was almost eight o'clock when Andromeda caught Narcissa's eye in the Slytherin common room and tilted her head towards the wall that would allow a Slytherin to enter or leave their collective territory. Not that the Slytherin students would acknowledge the rest of the castle as anything but their territory. It's just that the common room was their particular domain, a place only the cunning and the pure could enter without being sniffed out as an imposter almost immediately. It was something like a court but with many queens vying for centre stage and a lot of kings trying to assert their dominion over all – and no matter what, they were all courtiers out to promote their own cause.

Leaving the 'court' Narcissa passed through the wall her sister had used minutes before. She turned right, towards the main part of the castle, and was unsurprised when Andromeda appeared and walked along with her. Narcissa turned and tilted her chin up a little to smile at her sister, who smiled back before fixing her eyes ahead.

"This shouldn't take too long Cissy, it's just Bella wanting to check up on things. They always used to be over within a half hour last year." Andromeda said and then sighed "She just wants to remind us who's the most senior Black at Hogwarts."

Narcissa nodded as they rounded a corner and Andromeda indicated they should head up the stair case that rose in front of them. It wasn't dark in the castle really, but the dusky September light would have been of little use without the help of the sconces and torches. Some portraits murmured as they went past – it was surprisingly rare to see two Black sisters together. The Black family considered it more strategic to deploy their daughters to circulate the different year groups rather than clump together and risk missing vital information. And of course, the circle of Black sister's admirers and conquests would be wider if they moved in slightly separate circles.

They reached about the third floor and Narcissa began to recognise her own route to the library. Now that she thought of it, this part of the castle was ideal for a private family meeting tonight. No one would be milling around the library studying on a Saturday evening this early in term – except maybe the odd Ravenclaw but they would be few and intent of their studies. They reached the library corridor and, much as she thought, it was deserted but for a ghost who casually passed up through the ceiling without sparing them a glance.

Andromeda headed to one of the smaller doors to the left of the Library and Narcissa followed. The room was little, a classroom that was probably rarely used and only then for tutoring, and perched in the chair behind the teacher's desk was Bellatrix. The moon was starting it's slow ascent above the grounds and it's light brightened Bellatrix's dark hair and illuminated her fair skin.

"Good evening sisters" she greeted them with a small smile and a nod to the two chairs before the desk. Obediently but perhaps, in Andromeda's case at least, grudgingly the sister's took the seats indicated. "As you know Cissy, we are all expected to keep Mother and Father updated as to our progress, however any incident at Hogwarts that affects us all should be reported to them by me. Likewise, any information on a major occurrence in family affairs at home will be given to me to distribute to you two.

Here Narcissa's smooth brow creased a little with concern and Bellatrix out a short burst of her cackling laugh. "Don't look so worried Cissy, Father's not been expelled from the Wizardgamot. I'll also be having little catch ups with you two every now and then – just to check how you're getting on. Speaking of which, how was the first week? Any new developments?"

Andromeda protested that there really had been no new developments and briefly outlined the week. She was continuing to excel in her classes and she was still maintaining her status within the same group of friends. Nodding at this Bellatrix turned expectantly to Narcissa. Narcissa swallowed, clearly she was supposed to describe her week and apparently that would involve more detail as she could not say things had gone as usual.

"Well," she began "I've developed what I think we would all acknowledge to be an appropriate and enabling circle of friends. They are principally the first years, but also some of the second and third years, in Slytherin. I seem to be doing well in my subjects, there have been no formal assessments but the Professors appear to be pleased and other students have asked me for assistance."

Narcissa had hoped that this summary would be enough, but Bellatrix siezed upon the comment on third years and demanded specifics. Even in Slytherin, where family and social bonds were already so firmly decided, it was unusual bounds of year groups to be assaulted very vigorously, let alone breached. It was especially unusual for a student in their first week at Hogwarts to make a significant friendship with someone two years older. Bellatrix wanted details.

Reluctantly – though she could not say why she was unwilling – Narcissa gave the names, Crabbe, Dolohov... and Malfoy. With the name Malfoy the light of ambition flashed in Bellatrix's eyes. She looked Narcissa over as though assessing a cow that might be sold at market.

"This is a great opportunity for you Narcissa, for us. Father told me about what you overheard – their staying with the Minister during summer. I must write to Mother and Father. And you, Narcissa, you must be impeccable from now on. No indiscretions Cissy: No careless words, no thoughtless actions... and no _blushing _Narcissa. You have the chance to do us all honour, bring glory to our family and maintain our proud name.

You're too young for romantics yet but if we play our cards right… who knows. Perhaps a betrothal will be arranged within the year. If not, we can still milk this interest for all that it is worth… the Malfoys have funds as well as power and influence and we may be able to expand our own prospects. We must not lose focus. Andromeda, you will help Narcissa particularly over the coming months and so will I. A truly excellent opportunity… and we, we must make the most of it."


	11. Marched Down the Aisle

Hello ladies and gents, I had returned from the land without wifi. Thank you to all those who read, especially any who go the extra mile to review/follow - it is muchly appreciated.

**Disclaimer: **I am not J K Rowling the genius author, creator of Harry Potter and his universe. I am merely a shameless thief stealing some things - but at least I admitted it.

**Chapter 11**

Late on Saturday Narcissa was bid go to bed and 'get her beauty sleep'. The rest of the meeting (after her disclosure) had passed with Bellatrix pacing and lecturing, then sitting and lecturing and then walking Narcissa back to the Common Room: whispered lecturing. Bellatrix had assured her that she would write to their parents immediately and that Narcissa was not to worry about a thing, only to think of the honour she may bring them all. Andromeda had wisely not asked to be excused this process; she had merely stayed and nodded at the right moments, and clenched her jaw to keep from yawning.

Narcissa was more than a little overwhelmed. Of course she wanted to do her duty – it was the principle rule that guided her – but she hadn't realised this was her duty. She knew she'd have to marry one day, and that all relationships would be largely political, but to start cultivating them now… She was aware that Malfoy was handsome, she knew that from other girls' reactions and she was flattered that he was paying her particular attention, but did she like him so well as to encourage him? She lay in bed that night biting her lip as she mulled over the effect a few ill-chosen words had had upon her so far almost blissful life at Hogwarts. Narcissa was frustrated with herself. She was smart; she knew better how to handle Bellatrix and her obsession with family pride.

Staring up at the canopy Narcissa summoned a memory and let it play before her eyes. Warm sun was on her skin, and cool grass beneath her. As she sat by her nurse on the lawn, she saw Bellatrix blast power at a muggle postman who had dared to enter the grounds of their house. Narcissa could understand the scene better with hindsight: her family re-configured the wards on their home every spring, and this man wandering in had caused Bellatrix's first display of magic. It was Narcissa's earliest memory.

Rolling over to try and find a cool spot on the silk sheets, Narcissa contemplated what it must be like to be Bella – to be so apparently driven by pride alone. And then her thoughts turned to Lucius Malfoy. Barely older than herself really, what would he think to being seen as some prize for the winning? If it became clear that that was how he was being seen, he'd probably exude pleased acceptance. The oldest and purest and best families expected their heirs to be seen as desirable – great matches and prospects for anyone. If the family was also well connected and in favour with the people who mattered… well, then there sons at least could expect the pick of the crop and to have everyone even half eligible vying for their attention.

Still that was the Malfoy family, and what their son would be expected to do and feel. Narcissa was beginning to see hairline cracks in the foundation of her life, between what her family and society expected and what she truly felt and believed – not that she would ever let them show. But perhaps it was the same for Malfoy. It could be that he wasn't as totally immersed in the game of politics as he appeared. Maybe this hadn't been planned and strategic. Maybe he had just wanted to help. Maybe he liked Narcissa the girl, rather than the youngest Black heiress.

Narcissa sighed and curled up to try more concertedly to sleep. 'Silly girl' she scolded herself. Everything was strategic for purebloods. 'Besides,' she thought 'any semblance of real affection will be crushed by my family's stampede to march me down the aisle.'

…

What felt like bare moments later to Narcissa, she became aware of small hands gently shaking her awake. She blinked, adjusting to the cool green light of early morning in the dormitory.

"Oh… Good morning Floss" her voice was still soft from sleep and she stifled a yawn against the back of her hand as she listened to the house elf.

"Floss had to wake you Miss. Miss Bellatrix said so, Miss, as you're all going to dine at home today." With that Floss began to move around the room, laying out options of clothes and quizzing Narcissa about what she'd like to be brought for breakfast. Narcissa sank back into her pillows, shutting her eyes for a few precious extra moments as she requested tea and toast.

Within an hour she had had a bath run, her hair styled, her clothes aired and generally felt pampered to within an inch of her life by the time she reached Slughorn's Office. They would be flooing home from the fire place in the Professor's private study and he was there to preside over their departure. Narcissa let his flattery over their dress (all three girls had made an effort), compliments to their family and hearty wishes to see them all at his next 'little soirée' wash over her head. She was already impatient and had a feeling that the day would only hold more pomp and fussing. Besides, Bellatrix was fielding his comments well – even if she had accepted his offer on her sister's behalf without consulting them, Narcissa wouldn't cause a scene anyway.

Slughorn and his parties couldn't have seemed more trivial to Narcissa in that moment. She was too anxious to want to stand still, chatting to some man who had little relevance in the grand scheme of things. When she got back to the Manor she would be discussing, or more likely being dictated to on, the subject of the rest of her life. This thing with Malfoy was about the who, and for a pureblood witch, the who you ended up with determined the rest of the wheres, whens, hows and whats of your life. Narcissa felt a little queasy just thinking about it and she wanted to be on the way and home as soon as possible.

If she could just get home it would be alright. Her parents knew what was best. If this really was her duty, then seeing them would give her the conviction to make them proud. She would bear anything admirably and tolerate all strain with her brightest faux smile if her mother and father were nodding their approval. She wasn't selfish enough to be wilful and disobliging… and her children would inherit this dynasty: the glamour and luxury, as well as the pride and sacrifice. Lifting her chinand smiling a charming farewell Slughorn, Narcissa stepped into the green flames and went calmly on her way to meet her fate.


	12. Something Questioned, Nothing Gained

Hello everyone! How goes it? I would like to thank all those reading, especially TheDreamer006 for their very kind review, and thanks to all those who have reviewed and follow or have favourited. I'm quite sure nobody reads this bit but I have two warnings. The first is this chapter is quite significantly longer than previous ones - I may have gotten carried away. The second is there's something unexpected... or at least I didn't think it was too predictable. Anyway, I hope you enjoy.

Disclaimer: I do not and have never owned Harry Potter and any recognisable content... I deserve very little credit for any of this really, the best bits belong to J K Rowling.

**Chapter 12**

The Black family manner was large and stately. It had been built in the same era as Hampton Court and was conspicuous (to those with enough magic to see it) in its wealth. It stood in a secluded vale in Derbyshire, a few miles from the nearest muggle village, and had been acquired by Cygnus Black to house his expanding family after his marriage. Nothing less than this imposing structure would have suited his wife's sense of entitlement.

The Black sisters arrived home through the large marble fireplace in the drawing room. They dusted off their skirts and stepped out of the fire to greet their awaiting parents. Their Father was the first to welcome Narcissa; he kissed her cheek and gently squeezed her hand whispering

"I am proud of you, darling."

Next was her Mother, who proffered a cool alabaster cheek for her daughter's kiss and then moved to offer Andromeda the same. The family took seats in the Drawing Room as house elves were sent scurrying to fetch drinks and small, pretentious hors d'oeuvres. The visit began casually, with the usual elegant dining routine flowing like clockwork and the Blacks making polite conversation.

By the time they entered the Dining Room, with its smooth polished table - which had enough space for thirty diners - and three lavish chandeliers, not one of them had acknowledged the elephant in the room. It was not a question of discretion because the house elves, naturally, had been specifically ordered never to divulge anything they heard in the manor without express permission. No, it must be more to do with discussing business before luncheon being uncouth… 'Yet another social rule I must remember to take more notice of' thought Narcissa despondently.

The dinner proceeded with three grand courses, all served with a specifically chosen wine. The bouquet of each was supposed to compliment the subtley flavoured dishes, but it was not acceptable for the girls to drink heavily. Narcissa delicately sipped at her wine, Andromeda barely touched hers and Bellatrix drank deeply… she'd developed a liking for a drink in the evening and it was hard to smuggle booze into Hogwarts.

As the majestic tableware was magically cleared away, Mrs Black suggested they all retire to the Library. An appropriately grand affair, the Black Library boasted mahogany panelling, an enviable collection of (mostly wizarding) well merited books and plush leather sofas, as well as a large desk – around which the family took seats.

"So," Druella Black began "we need to configure a more detailed plan of action. Narcissa could not, of course, be expected to handle this alone – too young and naïve. To make the most of it we must be united in our efforts. Now is the time to assess what we have here and take in suggestions for how to respond to this situation…'

And so she went on. Cygnus seemed to have adopted the usual stance of not interrupting his wife's nigh unstoppable flow unless she said something that went precisely against his wishes or she demanded he 'back her up'. She talked incessantly about duty and honour and pride before she even broached the matter at hand. Watching her Narcissa was struck by the great resemblance between mother and daughter. Perhaps it was the pronounced favour of Dark robes to compliment their dark hair that brought it out at that moment. More likely, it was the fact her mother had started to pace as she lectured – in precisely the manner Bellatrix had the night before.

So lost was Narcissa in these thoughts that she was quite shaken up when she realised her Mother was summing up the decisions she saw as having been made. Narcissa's face and mind went blank as she strove to take in what was being said.

Apparently, she was under no circumstances to act without authorisation from her parents, or at least Bellatrix.

She was not to meet any young man formally, especially Malfoy, without the presence of other students or one of her sisters to chaperone.

She was to use the floo network to report home every night on all of her interactions with Malfoy, and all her actions while he was in the vicinity.

She was to cultivate him – this meant maintaining her dignity but doing anything else to win his favour.

She must be careful, she must be impeccable, she must be beyond reproach in every way if they were to 'secure him'.

With this last her mother smiled genuinely at her family, as though well pleased with a job well done. The way she saw it they had a game plan and everything to play for. Before Narcissa knew what she was doing she had stood up. "Mother I- I" she began and knew it was too late, she had to say something. Anything, and she could produce no charming lie now, nor even her dependable faux smile. The shock had stripped away her pure blood polish and she was a scared and concerned girl.

"I know I must do my duty to our family… but I had not realised it was this. I am not yet twelve years old and I am not ready to seek a bond for life with anyone – besides I barely know Malfoy. I understand that this is a good opportunity and he is eligible and charming but… no! I will not apologise for this. Father… Mother surely you can see it is not right?! Maybe it once was but I want some kind of a life before I am reduced to spouse and brood mare! Surely you want that for me?"

Seeing the shocked look on all her family's faces and her Mother starting to draw breath to speak she changed tack. "I am an heiress am I not? And you say I have gifts… If this is true why should _we_ rush and try _so _hard? Surely Abraxas and Lucius Malfoy will try to win me as much? Besides, I know a pureblood witch cannot hope for real love in a marriage, indeed I accept it, but I do wish for affection and if that is really there it should not matter if we wait 'til I am a little older."

"Narcissa, it is decided. You are my daughter and you-" Narcissa cut her mother off.

"What you propose is monstrous! I have only just experienced the freedoms of Hogwarts – while doing my duty accordingly – I do not want one week of slight freedom all my life! You would have me-"

She was cut off by her Father's chair scraping back on the stone floor as he stood. She had been counting on him for support and he looked murderous, perhaps he saw that it was unfair but... no.

"Narcissa, do not interrupt your Mother. You are a disgrace, behaving like this. Druella, I cannot bare to see my pet shaming us. I give you leave to do what you must to sort this out."

With that his face turned cold, still, and he walked out of the Library leaving Narcissa hopeless and feeling utterly alone. She sank to her seat, quite undone by the anger of her Father - who was seldom cross and never with her before. Her Mother glared down at her. Druella asked Narcissa if she would go back to Hogwarts now and do as they asked. With tears in her eyes and conflict in her heart Narcissa shook her head.

Narcissa felt her mother's firm grip on her wrists and the sickening squeeze and tug of side long apparation. She was released where she had landed; huddled on the floor. Her wand was snatched from her before she could think to use one of the few spells she had learnt. She looked up through her waves of dark hair to recognise one of the less sumptuous guest rooms. It was not ready for guests and was scarcely furnished. She turned her head and saw her Mother in the doorway. She heard the incantation murmured as the light left the room and the windows blocked themselves up.

It was pitch when the door slammed – no key hole to let in a chink of light. Narcissa tried the door and predictably found tugging the handle to be futile. She wanted to scream, shout. How long would they leave her here? Was she just here to await further punishment? She had to be back at school in the morning!

'What have I done…?' Narcissa worried to herself as she brought her knees up to her chest and leant against the door. Surely her family cared more for her than to really force her into allowing all that… interfering. Maybe she could love Malfoy, she reasoned, but with all their interfering how could anyone fall in love? Her Father's face flashed before her mind's eye. Anger. Dissapointent. She felt a hollowness in the pit of her belly and knew she had to do something… but she couldn't do _anything _in here.

She wasn't wrong. She knew she deserved better treatment than their demands… but it _was_ her duty. Duty was everything. They said this was her duty and she had been taught to swallow that pill no matter how bitter. Maybe she was letting herself down… they certainly thought she was letting them down.

It was hard to tell the time in that room. She could hear nothing of the manor beyond her door and the sun and moon's cycles were hidden from her. The only smell was the mustiness of an unused room. Previously, in any part of the house she frequented, she would know eight o'clock by the rich scents rising up from the kitchens. It felt, to Narcissa, like she waged that eternal battle ceaselessly for days. When she did drift into a restless slumber her cheeks were still tear streaked and her hair was wild from her raking it in thought and frustration.


	13. Sticking to Her Curses

Hello to the beautiful and wonderous people who are taking tim to read such nonsense - Thank you all. Especial thanks to R'Nel, TheDreamer006 and Hannah for their kind words and taking time to review; it is always a pleasure to get reviews. Now, please enjoy.

Disclaimer: Harry Potter and all recognisable content is the amazing creation of the wonderful J K Rowling and I am only... gilding lillies I suppose.

**Chapter 13**

She was kept in that room for what seemed like a terribly long time. In the constant darkness Narcissa's thoughts and conflicting desires preyed upon her. It was many hours before any respite came for her worried mind. Some while after she had fallen asleep the crack of Apparation woke her… she roused herself just in time to see a house elf Disapparate, leaving a tray of food in his wake.

Relaxing again, she rubbed the eyes she had just opened and stretched lazily on the soft, sheet-less mattress. Narcissa thought absently that she should probably hurry over and make the most of the food she'd been brought. But really, she wasn't hungry. Although it had been hours at least since lunch she hadn't done anything. Except worry. So nothing physical really, as she wasn't given to futile bouts of pacing. Not to mention a Black family luncheon was much more extravagant than lunch at Hogwarts and Narcissa had sampled more or less every dish.

Narcissa couldn't say how long she'd been asleep, but she'd drifted off in an awkward position and her back cracked loudly in the silence of the room as she forced herself to stretch and sit up. She rolled her head on her shoulders as she walked over to the table where the food lay. Maybe it was the lack of pillow making her ache on waking up, she mused – she always had two pillows of feathers and a top one of down at home and at Hogwarts. She really wasn't accustomed to anything as sparse as this room…

She sat down on the carpeted floor to eat the food as her eyes tried to make out what exactly she'd been served. It was basic pasta in a tomatoey sauce that had probably been creamy and rich at the original time of serving. It must have been charmed to keep warm Narcissa noted and began to calculate that it must be at least nine pm, given the time the family usually finished eating and the staleness of the food now. The tension in her aching muscles released slightly as she realised she had only been in here for seven hours… and that meant there was a chance she'd get back to school in time for lessons on Monday! The other Slytherins need not be any the wiser as to her family feud.

With this cheerful thought Narcissa finished her plateful, thirstily drank her glass of pumpkin juice and clambered back onto the bed. She pillowed her head on a bent arm as she curled up to sleep and tried to think of the possible close vicinity of freedom, rather than what on whether she should show remorse and give in to family honour, or stick to her hexes and stay resolute.

…

Narcissa could tell it was morning when she was woken from her uneasy slumber due to the plainness of her Mother's gown. The Black matriarch would never be seen in something so dull during visiting hours. Again, it was the crack of Apparation which first caused Narcissa to stir. Her mother had conjured a ball of light and Narcissa blinked her unaccustomed eyes against the sudden brightness. She was met by her Mother's shrewd and chilly gaze.

"Well Narcissa. I hope you are ready to ask my forgiveness and go back to school to charm the Malfoy boy. Is that so?"

"Indeed, I am sorry Mother…" Here Narcissa clenched her jaw to stifle a yawn "But... I still do not know if I can submit myself to duty in this grave a matter…" Here Mrs Black looked away, unimpressed by the shine of tears welling in her daughter's dark eyes.

"Mama, I feel I am being punished because of how I feel, or more do not feel, it is really too much to ask -" Narcissa's voice was rising with distress and irrepressible emotion by this point but her Mother quietened her by speaking in her own calm tones. She was unmoved by her youngest daughter's display of anguish and her voice and face remained stoically disinterested – if anything changed at all, her eyes flashed with annoyance at such ill-bred loss of emotional control.

"Enough. Enough of your excuses and confusion girl. Luckily for you Narcissa, I have brought in someone less involved to give you their opinion – and talk some sense into you. Your Father and I have had quite enough of your tears and tantrums, thank you, and won't be seeing you again until you are prepared to do your duty."

With that, Druella Black Disapparated, leaving her daughter once more alone and plunged into sudden and complete darkness. The question 'who?' had left Narcissa's lips but was neither heard nor marked by anyone. She sank back onto the edge of the bed and worried her lower lip with her teeth. What would she say to this mystery person, when she couldn't even get her stance on the situation straight in her head? Would she be given any more of a chance to speak with this person than she had with her mother? And what did they think the point was? Narcissa herself could script lectures, sermons and dissertations on the subjects of dutiful courage, biddable children and family pride. She couldn't fathom why they thought more of what she already knew so well could convince her.

Leaning against the bed post, she began to contemplate who they might wield in to try and wear down her defences. Surely her family were amongst those with the fiercest convictions of honour, duty, pride and sacrifice. Who might be more convincing than a Black? It would have to be someone they trusted of course, they couldn't let the wizarding population know that Cygnus and Druella Black could not keep control of their daughter. Indeed, her own bright prospects would dim if she became known as that 'obstinate Black girl'. No. It would have to be someone with the motives to keep the secret, Narcissa considered… perhaps someone Father could blackmail, or someone who owed him a great favour, or generally feared him… maybe even someone in his pocket.

Her family had great influence after all. Even her mother might cajole or bribe someone in to talk her around but maintain their discretion. They were a powerful lot, the Blacks, and they always had been. As far as they were concerned they should remain so, and that meant maintaining their control. Narcissa was a useful tool in their work at the moment and promised more for the future, but they would be careful not to risk too much in bringing her to heel.


	14. Brought to Heel?

Hello and thank you glorious readers. It took me a while to work this chapter out, and I'm not convniced - I'll try and improve the next one. Anyway, I hope you all enjoy it. Thank you.

**Disclaimer**: Harry Potter and all recognisable content belong to J K Rowling and not to me.

**Chapter 14**

Narcissa's Aunt Walburga (her Father's sister) was an imposing woman with the typical traits that defined members of the Black family. She wore her dark hair coiled up high on her head; this served to show her ivory pale complexion and signature haughty gaze. She arrived in the spare room – or as Narcissa dubbed it, her 'cell' – impeccably dressed in robes of deep indigo silk. Having Apparated in and drawn her wand to conjure a lamp, she looked around the sparse space imperiously, and regally inclined her head to Narcissa.

"Hello Aunt… I take it you are here to talk me around?" Walburga raised an eyebrow at Narcissa's abruptness. Clearly she thought it a little impertinent that her niece had rushed through the pleasantries. Narcissa blushed slightly, but really couldn't find it in her to care much – what was a little more disapproval? – she'd been stuck in here for hours! A little haste to get on with things was only natural after spending so long cooped up.

"Yes I suppose I am, Narcissa. Your Mother wrote to me and explained the situation – the trouble you're causing – and prevailed upon me to be a voice of reason. This isn't like you Narcissa. Although, I cannot say I didn't expect some insubordination from one or other of you girls sooner or later. Your Father, my Brother, has too soft a hand with you. And now look at this trouble…"

Walburga conjured a straight backed - almost orthopaedic looking – chair, and sank gracefully onto it to continue her lecture. She stayed there, the picture of flawless posture and impeccable poise, as she rehashed everything that Narcissa was already aware of in support of ceasing 'this foolishness' and 'submitting to reason'. Walburga stated that there was the pride in such a union, as well as the many benefits of even a short term connection with such a family. Also to be considered was the fact she was distressing her parents, and the whole family, with this 'futile stubborn display'. She must, her Aunt insisted, also reflect that if she could not obey her Father - who undoubtedly knew and _wanted_ what was best for her – she could not happily obey a husband and would never be satisfied in life.

It was at this point, when she had reached the arguments focussed on Narcissa's own benefit, that Walburga moved to perch on the edge of the bed by Narcissa. She placed what she intended to be a friendly hand on her niece's knee and tried to catch Narciss'a eye. Looking at the exquisite weave and colour of her Aunt's robes and smelling the sickly floral perfume Walburga preferred, Narcissa became intensely aware of her own state of disheble. She'd slept overnight in her dress and hadn't washed, or combed her hair with more than her fingers since she left Hogwarts the morning of the previous day. The embarrassment of this realisation brought the tell-tale pick flush to Narcissa's cheeks, and only served to bring home the point that her Aunt Walburga was making.

"This path can only lead to shame. It will bring your family shame – and would now if anyone found out. It is bringing you shame… isn't it Narcissa? You know you're better than this. You were raised for duty and honour and pride and your choosing what? Defiance. I can see it Cissy: you aren't proud of these last day's actions. And really how could you be? You're letting yourself down." Narcissa was about to acknowledge the truth in this when Walburga pulled out her final weapon and aimed straight at Narcissa's diminishing resistance. "And of course, you will only be more shamed with time. No one who's anyone will want an insubordinate wife. So you will end up as what? A destitute wife to a husband who can't afford to keep you in the manner you've become accustomed… or the wife of a mudblood no one so you cannot be accepted into the society of your friends… or maybe, a loathed spinster, left on the shelf to go batty over nonsense love potions…"

Looking back, Narcissa would always feel a little uncomfortable when she remembered that it was this argument that had worn down her convictions and left her as the typical weak-willed daughter of a noble house. It hardly removed her qualms about 'cultivating Malfoy' but she was a product of her upbringing. Her husband's status would become her own – without a husband she would be as nothing – and in pure blood society status was all.

…

Narcissa arrived back at Hogwarts just as the last lessons of the day were finishing. The corridors began to fill up with the jostling throng of students just set free from the tedium of lessons and Narcissa summoned and fixed in place her own haughty façade. She used it alot in public, especially around the castle. It was one way for her to pass more quickly through the corridors without having her slight frame crushed in the crowds – Hufflepuffs could be relied on to scarper out of a Slytherin's path and her housemates would politely side step to avoid colliding with one of their own.

Narcissa headed down towards the Common Room, rehearsing the carefully gauged cover story in her head. Her parents had already put about their fabricated reason for Narcissa's absence from school. They couldn't have anyone knowing she'd 'taken leave of her senses' and defied her parent's authority. They also couldn't have anything so unflattering as Dragon Pox for an excuse – indeed Narcissa hadn't been away from lesson's long enough to make that a convincing story.

No, Cygnus and Druella Black had allowed the rumour to circulate that Narcissa had had to attend the sick bed of her dear and distant cousin Eloise in France – conveniently Eloise had indeed been ill. She was two years older than Narcissa and had consumed some badly brewed potion at Beauxbatons during her first week back. Eloise and her family had been trying to keep this quiet, but it was a useful coincidence that Druella used to her advantage. After all, Black's came first.


	15. All Set

**Hello:** hello to the darlings of the universe who take time to read my humble offering to the great table of the world of Harry Potter. Thank you all, and thanks especially to littlesexywitch for the concrit (I am looking into the exact dates of Proffesors, although it appears there are few to be found, and I hope it will not distract your enjoyment too much in the mean time). Thanks again everyone and I hope you enjoy it.

**Disclaimer:** I do not own and did not create Harry Potter or any recognisable content, J K Rowling has graciously allowed us to clutter her world with our own musings on her genius.

**Chapter 15**

Narcissa settled back in to life at Hogwarts the way swans sink effortlessly from the sky and onto the water. People bought the story of her sick cousin without question and the first years continued to be eased into their new classes. While Narcissa was officially 'cultivating Malfoy', she had found a happy medium where she largely acted according to her conscious, but made an extra effort to appear to woo Lucius in front of her older sisters.

It had not been difficult to continue attracting Malfoy's attention. On the night of her return to school he had joined her by the fire in the Common Room and asked her what had kept her away 'from him' for so much longer than expected. The genuine concern in his eyes had warmed Narcissa's reluctant heart and she felt a twinge of guilt as she fed him the lines about Eloise. Since then he had made a habit of coming to speak to her whenever she was in the Slytherin Common Room – occasionally presenting her with little gifts such as tiny fairy cakes procured from the House Elves in the Kitchens or early flowers he'd had sent from his greenhouse. Indeed, every week Narcissa's room was filled with floral perfume of one sort or another as Floss artfully arranged the flowers on her dressing table.

She was actually beginning to enjoy Lucius Malfoy's marked attentions to her. Although it caused speculation, it earned her respect from older members of Slytherin House. Although Marius was a little more stand offish with her, he was still sweet to her in lessons and when Malfoy wasn't around. And, while Narcissa was perhaps obliged to be a little more involved than she would prefer, Malfoy's input had helped them perfect their Ravenclaw-Revenge-Plan. The 'team' had developed the routine of meeting about twice a week (when Malfoy summoned them and they were informed by Narcissa) in the Come and Go Room to formulate and then check on their plan.

As with any gathering of Slytherins, especially one with several would-be-alpha males, tensions were set to run high and egos would naturally have hindered the progression of their plan. Narcissa had predicted this, and consequently had planned to keep a distance from the drama. Yet her concerns were proved groundless by none other than Malfoy himself. Lucius Malfoy knew his own value, but was also shaping up to be a shrewd manipulator and politician: he kept the peace and managed the group by unofficially appointing Marius as his second in command. This kept the first years happy as they recognised Malfoy's respect for them when he often deferred decisions on minor details to Marius (who the first years were coming to view as their representative). Even Malfoy's cronies did not disrupt this set up; if Crabbe and Dolohov had a problem with being passed over when Malfoy chose a deputy, then they either aired their grievances privately or not at all.

And so the weeks passed peacefully enough with Narcissa reporting all social progress to her parents twice weekly, flourishing in her lessons and helping to finalise the Slytherin plans for revenge.

…

The first weekend in November was cold and clear and blustery, seeing the population of the castle bundled up in warm jumpers and thick cloaks. The inhabitants were further wrapped up by their woollen House scarves at breakfast on Saturday as that weekend also marked the first Quiditch match of the season: Hufflepuff vs. Ravenclaw.

"Are we nearly ready everyone?" Narcissa queried the group around her as she saw the Hufflepuff Team gathering to head down to the pitch. The first year Slytherins, plus Malfoy and co., had congregated together for a pre-match breakfast and something akin to a pep talk. They'd all, including the third years, taken seats at the end of the lengthy table closest to the door and were now hurriedly finishing their drinks. After all, even the third years had an especial interest in this match, despite being used to Hogwarts quiditch by now.

Narcissa's question received nods and murmurs of agreement and the group stood to head down to the pitch, pulling their cloaks tighter around them as they met the cold air of the court yard. As they headed down the hill to the pitch Narcissa turned her head left to keep the hair that was being whipped against her cheeks by the wind from directly stinging her eyes. She was met with the view of the 'team', of the boys and girls who had become her friends as well as allies during the months of whispered conspiracy and secret planning.

The boys especially, were walking quickly through the cold day as their feet crunched down on the un-trodden frost; tension was clear in their stance and anticipation of more than just a morning's sport was evident in their aristocratic features. She glanced up at Lucius, who had taken her arm to assist her down the sloping path, and saw the glint of excitement beyond the cool grey of his gaze. She could feel the tensile strength of his arm through his cloak and could sense the expectation that was thrumming through him.

'This is it' she thought 'what we've been working towards all this time'. If she felt a spark of guilt she quickly extinguished it, dousing it with righteous indignation and the conviction that this was justified. Besides, it had all been handled carefully and no one would ever be able to seriously lay the blame for what was about to happen at their door. She met Lucius's eyes as he smiled warmly at her and patted the delicately gloved hand that rested on his sleeve. Everything would be fine. She trusted Lucius: it would work like a charm.


	16. Plan in Action

This chapter is dedicated to my wonderful recent reviewers, MzMalfoy, and one lovely guest reviewer. I do adore reviews, thank you so much. Thank you to everyone who's reading and I hope you enjoy it.

Disclaimer: J K Rowling is the genius creator of Harry Potter and credit for all recognisable content really must go to her, she deserves it after all.

**Chapter 16**

Narcissa and Lucius's group took their places on the very front row of the green and white clothed Slytherin stands. They had been sure to get there early as everything for their plan was in place and they deserved the best view of the action. The Slytherin stand was otherwise empty and even the Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff stands boasted barely a dozen fans that had arrived so early.

Narcissa could imagine the Ravenclaw team, hurrying into their blue quiditch robes, eager to hear their Team Captain's pre-match speech. They were probably anticipating nothing but exhilaration during the game and glory afterwards: while Ravenclaws were not known for their sporting prowess, the Team was renowned for their tactical planning and strategic ability - and the Hufflepuff team were generally far less competitive than the other houses and could not be expected to put up too much of fight.

Narcissa fought to hide a not very lady like, but very Slytherin, smirk as she thought of the Ravenclaws envisioning their head start for the Quiditch Cup to match their unfair advantage in the House League. Well, they might not stop them winning, but the group's plan should help shrink the overgrown Ravenclaw ego.

…

The crowds had gradually filled up the stands in the minutes before the match and, by the time the teams were walking out onto the pitch from opposite sides, the noise was deafening. The jeering, whooping and cheering of hundreds of excited school kids created an atmosphere of lively anticipation that was infectious. The first year Slytherin's nerves were already sparking with expectancy and they couldn't resist laying down their dignity for a while to holler their own encouragement.

"Come on Hufflepuff! Show them what for!" yelled Narcissa, standing up as her usually quiet voice strained to make an impact as her fellows shouted their own backing for the under-dog Hufflepuffs. The Slytherins weren't fools, if it came to a bet they'd put their money on Ravenclaw, but they couldn't help hoping the Hufflepuffs might put the other team back in their place.

Narcissa shouted again "GO HUFFLEPUFF!" jumping a little with excitement and the buzz of the electric atmosphere. She caught a disapproving glare from Lucius and her face fell. She stilled her restless feet and stood more sedately, limiting herself to clapping along with the chant that has been started in the Hufflepuff corner of the stands. She was a little embarrassed. 'Darn Quiditch' she thought; it was so hard not to get swept up in the swelling noise of the crowd, in the adrenaline of being high up with the wind sweet and fresh in her face and the feeling of belonging when so many individuals were sharing in excitement like this.

The teams had gathered in two semi-circles around the centre of the pitch, one black with flashes of yellow, the other vivid blue. It was clear they were being reminded of the rules and expectations. Narcissa turned to Lucius, a moment passed and the starting whistle was blown high and clear over the crowd's rumble. It was so subtle Narcissa wouldn't have noticed if she hadn't known to look. Lucius lips moved and his wand flicked as he murmured the spell to activate the enchantments that had carefully been placed the night before. It was over in a moment and Lucius stowed his wand with a satisfied grin and a wink for Narcissa. No one else had seen a thing.

It wasn't until a few minutes into the game that their plan really got into action. The Ravenclaws scored a goal and the Commentator (Fabien Prewett, a fourth year Gryffindor) stumbled over the chaser's name. It was Casper Stay-Meade who had made the shot but, reading the name on the shirt and, struggling against a laugh Fabien declared

"1O points to Ravenclaw from chaser Casper _Brain-Dead_!" The crowd guffawed and collectively trained their binoculars and spy glasses on Casper to check the name themselves. On the front row of the Slytherin stands, a group of first and third years fought to keep their smug expressions from becoming too obvious as the murmur of speculation moved through the crowd. They didn't have to wait long to find out if any other uniforms had been tampered with as another Ravenclaw Chaser, barely able to hear the Commentator over the crowd and the wind rushing past them, got the Quaffle past the Hufflepuff Keeper.

"_Another_10 points to Ravenclaw, this time from Lucy Bin It! Bin It is new to their team this year…" the Commentator continued. It seems Lucy Bennett had heard this announcement as she had paused in her flight with the reclaimed Quaffle, and had said Quaffle snatched from her by a Hufflepuff Chaser. Again the front row tried to keep their amusement to the same level as the rest of the Slytherin stand, but it was difficult. This had gone even better than they'd hoped – not just humiliating the Ravenclaws, but distracting them too!

"10 points to Hufflepuff!" called Fabien "Team Captain _Suck Up_ couldn't quite stop that Quaffle…" The Ravenclaw Keeper, Sue Buck, definitely heard this. In a matter of moments she had signalled to the Ref and the whistle had been blown to pause the game. Both teams swept from the dizzying heights, where the wind had buffeted them and snatched at the twigs of their brooms, to regroup and shelter on the ground in the bowl of the pitch.

There were jeers as the huddle of blue-robed players moved to try and counter the charms on each other's robes. The jeering came from three of four sections of the stands; it seemed it wasn't just the Slytherins who thought the Ravenclaws deserved what had come to them after weeks of flaunting their Head's bias. Lucius Malfoy's lips turned up into his signature smirk below his binoculars as he watched the Ravenclaw team's futile attempts to transfigure there robes. He then chuckled and leaned close to Narcissa

"Buck's arguing to try and get permission for them to change into spare Quiditch robes. Ref's taking none of it. The only way for them to get off the pitch before the games over is on a stretcher." He laughed with clear grim pleasure lightening his harsh features.

Narcissa smiled at him weakly… as much as she was enjoying the spectacle, and the rightful humbling of Ravenclaw, their clear distress and the idea of their only escape from the humiliation being injury was an uncomfortable thought. Malfoy's sadistic enjoyment of the Ravenclaw team's dreadful situation was making her struggle against an instinct to draw back from him. She glanced around, Bellatrix was two rows back and nodded stonily when she caught Narcissa's eye. Summoning her composure, Narcissa leant into Malfoy's shoulder and smiled up at him, her best and brightest faux smile fixed firmly in place, even as she gritted her teeth behind it.

…

Narcissa's jaw ached by the time she reached the sanctuary of her room. It had taken the Ravenclaws a while to regain their equilibrium, but the embarrassment they suffered only served to make them more resolute in their pursuit of victory. Still, she had been expected to giggle prettily every time that Commentator called out those silly names even though the Hufflepuffs had slowly lagged behind the Ravenclaws' points until Skinner (or 'Skinhead') had finally caught the Snitch. She shouldn't feel guilty, she assured herself. The Ravenclaws had it coming, and there was no real harm done. None of her friends would be implicated and House pride, indeed any pride, was paramount.


	17. Guilty Conscience

Hello everyone, I know it's been a shamefully long time. I really wasn't sure about this chapter - that's why it took so long - so any feed back would be especially appreciated. Thank you to all the wonderful people who red and review, I hope you enjoy!

**Chapter 17**

Narcissa sat on the stone window sill of her bedroom and stared out at the night. It was pre-dawn, the silver sickle of the moon had been spent and the lake was black velvet. The chill of the water through the glass panes joined with the seeping cold of the stone sill to make Narcissa shiver under her cashmere wrap. Not that she noticed, the dark nothingness before her eyes appeased the buzzing thoughts behind them and she was transfixed.

"Mistress?" A tentative voice disturbed the still quiet of the night. "Floss thought Miss Narcissa might like some cocoa… if relaxed Miss Narcissa might catch a little more sleep before it is full morning."

Narcissa turned and smiled weakly, which the elf took for permission to set down the tray she carried and pour.

"Have you heard?" Asked Narcissa, "Does everyone know?" In that moment, with her dark hair plaited over one shoulder and those crystalline blue eyes blood shot from lack of sleep, Narcissa looked very much like a troubled child and the House Elf felt a twinge of sympathy. The elf's deep blue eyes had widened to the size of saucers but she nodded, and looked down at the cup she held out to her Mistress.

"And who, do they say, is responsible?" Seeing the elf's features twist and one of Flosses hand reach up to tug her ear with discomfort, Narcissa pressed further "Floss, you must tell me. Don't worry, you can say." Narcissa had not moved since she turned to face the elf and her legs hung limply off the edge of the sill and her small, elegant hands were gathered loosely in her lap. Floss pressed the mug of cocoa into Narcissa's hands, trying to warm the young girl who sat shivering and seeming far less the proud Black daughter than usual.

"They say, Mistress… well there is much speculation. Some say the Hufflepuffs had most to gain from it… Some think this is the type of prank Gryffindors like – not hurting anyone, see? But I think at least as many think Slytherin as Gryffindor." Narcissa nodded her head, she had expected as much, but seeing the indecision in the elf's eyes she gestured Floss to carry on. "Of those that think it was Slytherins, some have said names. Many say that young Malfoy is to blame, him and his friends. The other boys who are with him much of the time…"

Floss trailed off and watched her mistress's eyes narrow in thought. A slight frown appeared between Narcissa's brows as she bit her lip contemplatively – Floss thanked Merlin that Mrs Black wasn't there, she was always telling the girls about avoiding the need to cast wrinkle charms. Floss pottered around the room straightening book shelves and folding clothes, periodically urging Narcissa to drink up until, with an air of decision, Narcissa set down her mug.

"Floss" she began "Will you take a message for me please?"

…

Narcissa had gotten up shortly after this conversation and held an emergency meeting before breakfast. At the meeting she had told them what she had heard and what she suspected (that Floss had been kind, and underestimated the number of people who thought them guilty). But she also reminded them that it had not been a very serious incident, and they had been careful: there was no reason to panic. Narcissa maintained that if they stuck together and to their story then everything would be fine.

Reflecting on the meeting while in potions that afternoon, Narcissa saw that some of their number, like Marius and Helena had agreed enthusiastically, and everyone else had seemed amenable to going along with the plan. It would be okay, she considered. It was nearly time for dinner and the teachers had shown no signs of preparing for an investigation. It was clearly being dismissed as a harmless and anonymous prank – no point disturbing castle routine futilely.

Narcissa added the lace wings to her potion and stirred as it turned from murky green to pearlescent blue. The hue took her back to the day before, the Ravenclaw Quiditch robes being snatched and tugged by the wind. She still felt a little guilty about causing the Ravenclaw team to suffer such abject humiliation. Sure, they'd gone on to win the match anyway but the more she thought about it, the more she felt her grievance was really with Professor Chadwick. And that made her sense of justice prick uncomfortably at her conscience; Chadwick himself should have borne the brunt of the trouble.

She could have wallowed in guilty misery, but she owed it to her friends to keep up their innocent façade and appear as guilt free as possible. Her nature was increasingly pragmatic and she couldn't change what had happened, Narcissa saw that she must just wait and hope to ride out the storm. Besides which, Malfoy had told her he was working on getting permission from Slughorn and Dippet for them to leave the Castle and go out to dinner in the next few weeks. That was enough to distract her when the guilt was weighing too heavily on her mind.

Narcissa knew neither Slughorn nor Dippet were adept at resisting Lucius's wheedling, and where that failed a bag of galleons broadened a Malfoy's path to getting his own way. So it was safe to assume she would be going for dinner with Lucius Malfoy. As a typical teenager girl, the likelihood of this pending event sent her into a flurry of confusion over what to wear. And what to say. The only significant time she'd spent alone with him had been when he showed her the Come and Go Room. Other than that they spoke publically, and though they would have to be chaperoned, out of school seemed an entirely different setting.

She also diverted her worried mind by fretting over what to get Lucius for Christmas. He'd been treating her for weeks with little trinkets, sweets and flowers – some of them quite ostentatious. She had no reason to believe that a Christmas gift would be any less extravagant and she wanted to be ready to reciprocate. She didn't enjoy feeling indebted.


	18. A Most Desirable Alliance

Well I hope that someone did like that last chapter because here's another to follow it. As always thank you all so much for reading and I do hope you enjoy - feel free to let me know, all us authors thrive off even half a line long review. Thank you, Pheonlynx.

**Chapter 18**

By the end of the next week Lucius Malfoy had indeed charmed the Professors into letting himself and Narcissa have pre-Yuletide dinner away from the castle. His smarming flattery turned everyone that he deemed worthy of using it on to putty. Well, it had actually cost him a box of Crystallised Ginger and a bottle of Salamander Brew but never mind. He could afford it and Lucius was convinced it would be worth the price.

He was under pressure from his interfering Father. Mr Malfoy had never even met Narcissa, but he had seen shots of her at various charitable galas in the Prophet and heard that she would like as not turn into as accomplished a witch as her maternal Grandmother – if her hair was any indication. Not to mention, as Lucius was sick of hearing, that 'this is a most desirable alliance'. Mr Malfoy also maintained that if Narcissa turned out to be unfit, or the Blacks lost status then they could easily 'brush her off'.

Lucius was developing a real fondness for Narcissa. He appreciated the contrast of her cool demeanour and her eyes lighting with glowing warmth when she saw him. Plus she was beautiful and everywhere they went in the Castle, if she was on his arm, he received twice the usual number of envious looks. Her proud and aristocratic but feminine features were a perfect match for his own refined appearance.

By instinct Lucius's nature was to seize and hold whatever he desired, fighting to the last breath to keep it. Yet, as much as he wanted to do so now, he couldn't help but feel a little concern for Narcissa. He blamed those damnable emotions he'd been letting toy with him of late… it was either that or some randomly emerged chivalry. He knew that if he 'brushed off' Narcissa after a long and marked interest she would be considered damaged goods by the best of wizarding society. He couldn't let that happen to his girl.

He would have to control her, orchestrate her every move to both please his Father and protect the gossamer sheen of her reputation. That way she would be his – either with him, or safe because of him and owing him her social standing.

…

"My dear Narcissa." Lucius greeted her on entering the circle of sleek black arm chairs in the common room.

"Lucius." She inclined her head regally, a princess accepting her due from a courtier. The eyes she trained on him held perhaps a little too many sparkles of joy but he nodded his head in approval anyway. She hadn't hurled herself into his arms like a reckless Gryffindor and though she seemed a little _too_ pleased to have him there, her greeting was perfectly cordial. No one could accuse her of anything based solely on the glittering of crystal blue eyes, he reasoned.

Moving to perch on the arm of her chair Lucius took the book she had been perusing, but that now lay limp in her lap. Casually, he marked her place with a scrap of parchment and placed the book on the coffee table before them. Narcissa raised a querying brow but Lucius merely smirked and inquired after her day. She answered him prettily: when he pressed her for details of lessons she obliged, when he complimented her skills she blushed.

Still, the anxiety to know if he'd put something special in her book, as she suspected, was clear in her eyes. She kept glancing at it between looking into his own grey eyes and searching his face. He chuckled when once again she was a little too slow in answering his question, her mind clearly whirring over something else. Lucius stood in one sleek flex of muscle and with a flash of his hand dismissed her to go and examine her book.

"I'll see you when you've sated that curiosity." he said and without a backward glance prowled from her sight. Gods that boy's trouble, thought Narcissa. He hadn't given chance for her giddy heart to steady. He was a rule to himself, as changeable as the sea she saw in the swirling grey depths of his pale eyes.

Narcissa moved as fast as she could over the marble floor and plush, deep pile, rugs while maintaining her stately pace and demeanour. As soon as she was alone in her room as she was alone in her room she jumped face first onto her bed. There she lay on her tummy to read the note.

_My dearest Narcissa,_

_I have arranged for us to have dinner out on Friday – I assume that will be acceptable. Please feel free to bring your sisters or perhaps a house elf to chaperone and be sure to look your usual ravishing self. My dear, lovely, girl I have some good news for us. I am sure you will try to thank me, but the pleasure of your company is the best reward and honour any man can receive._

_Lucius_

Turning onto her back Narcissa once again fixed unseeing eyes on the tapestry hangings. His instructions were reasonable and despite herself a cauldron of nervous anticipation was brewing inside her. Compliance with his wishes was assumed, and she had no real reason to go against them. Whatever her reserves about Malfoy, when she was with him she was swept to dizzying heights which made that mountain range of concerns look an ant hill.

He was so vibrant, so assured and in control that he made her feel more confident too. When they were together nothing could stop them. The silver Slytherin prince with his perfect match – why shouldn't everything fall exactly into place as they wanted it to? There were no two more deserving. Two flawless creatures ideally matched, no power in the universe should keep everything from unfolding just as the two of them would wish. He was so strong, so vital and he claimed what he wanted and kept it safe from conquest; Narcissa knew he wanted her, was sure he was capable and willing to keep her safe as well.

She was still guilty about the Ravenclaw affair but Malfoy always had ways and little gifts to distract her. She was still nervous that somehow their secret guilt would be uncovered but Lucius was the person who made her feel safe. She rushed to him and for while forgot all about her cares.


	19. Losing His Grasp

A new chapter for my glorious readers! Thank you everyone. Especial thanks must go to Mz Malfoy for a most kind and encouraging review! Thank you so so much, it's great to know you're enjoying it and - spoiler alert - this chapter has an unusually large amount of action! Okay so enjoy everyone!

**Chapter 19**

Friday night rolled around and found Narcissa pacing in her dormitory, waiting for just the right moment to go down the stairs and meet Lucius. She wore a cream dress, the full, knee length skirts flaring out as she walked. Her dark hair (still lightening as her magic grew) was pinned in at the nape of her neck to show the emeralds nestled in silver at her ear. The silver setting of the jewellery picked up the hue of the dress and she knew Lucius loved everything luxurious and everything Slytherin, which made emeralds ideal. She had requested them from the family jewels and her mother had obliged, only too happy to impress the Malfoy heir.

She had asked Andromeda to come and chaperone. She could barely have withstood Bellatrix's wrath had it not been for the distraction of a Slug Club dinner – Bellatrix would be spending her evening with those the Potions Master deemed the Hogwarts elite. Andromeda was bringing her friend Caroline along and the two would be sitting at a separate table, not too far from herself and Lucius. There was a cough on the other side of the curtain and it was drawn aside to reveal the middle Black daughter in a charcoal coloured satin dress.

She looked Narcissa over and gave a brief nod "You look lovely Cissy." She moved over and gave Narcissa a quick hug then held her shoulders at arms length "I do like your hair like that. Look… I know there's a lot of pressure on you and I know your all into family pride, as you should be, but don't forget to have a little fun Narcissa. We grow up so fast and things don't stay still…" Andromeda smiled a little forlorn smile and released her sister before Narcissa could ask what she had meant.

Andromeda was already pulling the thick green velvet of the curtain aside. She turned back to Narcissa and smiled a determinedly cheerful smile "You ready?"

/|\|/|\|/|\

The evening was going perfectly, thought Lucius as he swallowed the last delicious morsel of his main course. Narcissa looked beautiful (and he, of course, had told her so – causing that pretty little blush of hers to appear), the food was scrumptious and she was already giggling and smiling without his good news. Knowing he was about to save her from the worry that had been keeping her spirits low for weeks, Lucius reached across the table and boldly took Narcissa's dainty white hand.

"Narcissa," he said, waiting for her to swallow her mouthful and meet his eyes. When she did he continued. "I have solved our predicament. Last week, when clearing this outing with our Professors, I met some resistance. It seems they were more suspicious of our involvement in the Ravenclaw affair then we thought. They knew I'd know something, if not being a direct perpetrator. They demanded some information so I told them it was that Marius boy. Dolohov and Crabbe are testifying against him as we speak."

Lucius watched for the glowing smile of gratitude that must surely come. Narcissa continued to stare at him, her cool hand frozen in his warm grasp. She mustn't understand. A little frustrated to have to wait for her praise and thanks, he spoke to explain. "Darling, you don't need to keep worrying so. The Professors will know for sure that Marius is to blame – he will be punished – and you can stop fretting for yourself and for me. I have fixed everything_ for you_ Narcissa, I've made sure you're safe!"

Narcissa continued to stare blankly, but her gaze had dropped to the soft linen table cloth and her small hand in his all-consuming grasp. Lucius began to worry. What was wrong with her? Had she gone deaf? Had some strange charm been placed over her?

Finally she spoke "Why him, Lucius? I think I know why, and I hope I'm wrong, but tell me."

"Well he was a ring leader after all, my love, and they were already suspicious of him." Her shrewd gaze met his eyes and he struggled not to start at her cool look. "Alright, I never really liked the boy. He buzzes round you like… like gnomes around honey! I don't like it – he's indiscrete and threatens not just his reputation but his own. Besides, he's served his purpose… Narcissa he's no use to us now."

Narcissa pulled her hand from his and, automatically courteous, he let it slip through his fingers. She stood, threw her napkin down on the table and fighting the hot sting of tears behind her eyelids, walked out of the restaurant.

/|\|/|\|/|\

When Andromeda caught up with her sister, Narcissa had lost the battle against tears and fat salty drops were rolling down her cheeks. Andromeda had told Caroline to wait with Lucius and had followed Narcissa out into the dark street. She reached for Narcissa's hand in an unusually public display of affection, offering her silent support.

Shakily and between harrowing gasps Narcissa began to talk, assuming Andromeda had heard or gathered enough to understand. "He didn't _have_ to do it. They didn't even kn-know for sure. He didn't need to… he willingly gave up _my_ friend while _we_ sat there in such… needless finery!"

"Narcissa…" Andromeda began, her face fair and full of concern in the moonlight.

Narcissa turned her watery but still vivid eyes on her sister and gasped out "He thinks he did it for me! He thinks I've been selfishly worried for my own hide all this time! He's so selfish… he doesn't care about Marius. He's so cold and utilitarian about it all… he's all 'we can lose the boy, he's served his purpose' and – and he's so jealous! I c-can't love someone like that! I don't want someone so – so _faithless_…"

/|\|/|\|/|\

Andromeda could see how distraught her little sister was, and took her back to the castle. She knew her parents would want her to consult them, or Bellatrix at least, and drag Narcissa to Lucius. All the adults involved would want Lucius to have a chance to explain himself – charm his way out of trouble. But Andromeda knew that while Narcissa was still so upset, and in two minds about Malfoy, he would be able to worm his way back into her good books with too much ease – and Narcissa might regret it.

Under the circumstances she did the only thing a sister could. She got her sister up to her room and out of Malfoy's reach. She used her greater knowledge of magic to seal them in their own cocoon, casting Mufflitio to keep Narcissa's sobs from prying ears and other charms to make sure no one could enter. She got Narcissa into bed and summoned cocoa for her. When Narcissa had finished her cocoa and her lip started to quiver at her remembered troubles, Andromeda curled up in bed with her and listened as Narcissa's shaking breath evened into sleepy snuffles. In the morning, thought Andromeda, they'd have a long talk but for now she would only offer quiet comfort.

**Oh look, a review box! **

Hint**_ hint..._**


	20. Decisions Decisions

Hello lovelies of the world, thank you so so much for reading! I must especially thank everyone who reviewed chapter 19, I have never had even half so many reviews for one chapter. So here I go, my special thanks go to Just An Alchemy Nerd, bluetopaziez, Mz Malfoy, and hidennerd for their kind reviews and wonderful feedback. I love you guys and I hope everyone enjoys the next chapter!

**Chapter 20**

In the morning the girls enjoyed a private breakfast, brought to on gilded trays courtesy of Floss, of blue berry pancakes – Narcissa's favourite. A little while later, when they were both up and dressed, Andromeda decided it was time for them to have that talk. Although she was quiet and her mouth corners drooped when she thought Andromeda wasn't looking, Narcissa did seem to have regained some of her well-bred, pure-blood, Black family composure.

"Cissy," Andromeda began once they were both perched on the bed. "Are you alright honey?" When Narcissa mutely nodded she carried on. "I mean, are you sure about any of this? You need to think about what to do. We can't hide in here forever and there's going to be a lot of pressure on you once we let the world in. I mean… our parents, his family – society even… he did a bad thing. But I think, if you want to stand a chance of ending your relationship you are going to have to be _really_ certain."

Andromeda ended her speech. She was painfully aware that she was only two years older than Narcissa and so she couldn't speak from personal experience. But she _was_ a teenage pure-blood so she knew as much as almost anyone about how the wizarding elite operated and she hadn't very nearly been housed in Ravenclaw for nothing. She might feel a little conflicted about influencing Narcissa when she couldn't predict the future but she knew she'd always feel guilty if she didn't offer the best advice she could.

Narcissa's head was tilted forward and the dark tresses hid her face. It was barely noticeable to those that saw her often or were not looking for it, but since the start of term the burnishing of gold that was her grandmother's legacy had begun to show in her hair – Narcissa Black's magical power was growing. She fiddled with the green on green embroidery of the coverlet, tracing the swirling lines of Celtic knots and thought on what her sister said. She was only eleven… how could she be _certain _of anything? But she knew she didn't want anything to do with Lucius, not right now. He'd been cruel, and needlessly so, betraying a friend just so they could go out to some silly dinner.

Andromeda interrupted her thoughts. "Look Cissy. I know it's hard but I've been reading this book, a muggle book that this guy recommended I read," Andromeda thought of her hidden friendship with Ted and held up a hand to stop Narcissa, pre-empting her question. "- I can't tell you who, and for all the hassle it would cause you probably don't want to know. Anyway, the book's called Pride and Prejudice. It is a bit heavy going at times, but there are so many parallels… it's all about getting a balance between your material and emotional needs when you marry someone. We know Malfoy's rolling in galleons so that's one sorted… I just don't know if you should sacrifice the other too lightly…"

Narcissa's thoughts spiralled in her head as her teeth worried at her lower lip. She really didn't know how to deal with this yet. As much as she didn't want to be a coward, and didn't like to think it was in her nature to bury her head in the sand, she needed some time.

/|\|/|\|/|\

It was approaching noon when Andromeda came down to the Slytherin common room and the cool light through the windows was bright with the winter's sun shining cool and clear onto the black light. A generous fire was burning in the marble grate to banish or at least counteract the chill of the cold lake and thick stone walls; it filled the air with the subtly aromatic scent of rosewood and the fragrance reminded Andromeda of far off summer. Juxtaposing the warm crackle of the flames, the lapping sound of the cold lake could be heard: it was ever present in the Slytherin quarters. Similarly the mild conversations the pupils were having contrasted the scheming coldness behind their eyes.

She scanned the room, ignored the opulent décor and the young offspring of the pure decked out in their weekend finery, until she found one head of long blonde hair. Catching the icy grey eyes with her dark ones, she tilted her head to the door and went out to wait. He appeared just moments later, dressed as usual in dark colours and designer brands. They walked in silence to an empty class room where Andromeda performed the ever useful Mufflitio spell. Lucius opened his mouth, intent on demanding what was going on but Andromeda shushed him with a politely raised hand. Always the gentleman, he let her talk.

Summoning all her apparent indifference and a mask of impartiality that would make her mother proud, Andromeda began to explain. "She doesn't want to see you Malfoy. She's been really upset and she needs time – she asks for you to stop pursuing her until after Christmas. There's only a week left before the holidays and she wants to think, she'll give you an answer at the start of next term."

"This is ridiculous!" Lucius's smooth grey eyes had splintered to daggers with rage and his fists were clenching at his side as he turned to pace (or, more accurately prowl). "I have done nothing I am ashamed of. That little troll practically _asked_ for it, chasing her like that – what's more I only did it for _her_! She's been worked up about getting in trouble for weeks!" He stopped and looked at Andromeda, expecting her to commiserate him on the contrariness of her sister. He was disappointed.

"Look Malfoy, you've really messed this up. I don't know how you're justifying what you did but she's not happy about it… I suppose that if you want her, you'll just have to sort something out." Andromeda left him standing in the middle of that drafty classroom, outrage pouring from him in waves. She had delivered her message and was beginning to lose patience with him. While Lucius Malfoy could be the most lively and engaging and pleasant company when it suited him, he was no fun at all when things were not going his way. Andromeda had no intention of hanging around to hear him shout, feel him seethe or watch him sulk.

...

_P.s If anyone would like to do a graphic for this story I would be most grateful! Either review or PM me to recommend yourself or anyone else. Finally, thank you again for reading my humble offering to the great world of fiction and I hope you liked this update._


	21. Making amends

'What's this?! More! Already?!' I hear you cry, and yes indeed it is. I'd like to say something suitably literary about muses, but I think it's mostly the reviews (and thank you for them) that have me in such a writing frenzy. You see, the more you review the more I feel I know you guys and that it would be a personal insult to not give more when you want it. So here you go, and I hope you enjoy.

**Disclaimer:** I am still not J K Rowling and I still, to my own disappointment, have no rights to Harry Potter or any recognisable content - I wasn't in the last few chapters either, but I forgot to say.

**Chapter 21**

"Marius!" called Narcissa as she followed him out of Professor Slughorn's classroom on Monday afternoon. Potions had been their last lesson of the day and as Marius had managed to avoid her so far, Narcissa was determined to speak with him. He was heading off down a dank corridor in the opposite direction to most of the Slytherins - who wanted to get to the Common Room and relax before dinner.

It was noisy, the stone walls bouncing the end of the day noise back at them and he hadn't turned around. Narcissa thought he hadn't heard or was ignoring her, but his pace had almost imperceptibly slowed. She took this as invitation enough, and hurried to his side.

"What is it Narcissa? You've been subtly pestering all day. You must be ware that I don't want to talk to _you_."

She nearly shrank back from the venom in his tone, and was rendered speechless by the frosty demeanour that had previously been so markedly lacking in him. It was present in all Slytherins in general and his open warmth was what had drawn her to him above all others when they first met. She saw the slightest hint of satisfaction in his face as he registered her hurt – she recognised that he must have been really wounded by what had occurred. Seizing her courage and letting him past her well-bred mask of indifference, Narcissa drew breath to try and win back her friend.

"I just wanted to say I'm sorry – I really didn't expect-"

He cut her off "Dragon dung! Narcissa, you let him feed me to the hippogriffs so you could go out to some swanky dinner! Don't you dare tell me you're 'sorry'. What, feeling bad because he paid for desert and you - you felt a bit guilty so you couldn't finish you're third course?..."

She let him finish his tirade. They'd stopped waslking and were facing each other across the width of a deserted corridor. He was almost shaking now, breathing heavily as he lost his angry façade and the truth of betrayal showed in his face. To Narcissa, it was quite heart breaking. His hazel eyes, usually bright with humour, were glistening as he fought tears. His ever smiling mouth was turned down at the corners and his face (which now seemed so young) was pinched and drawn, testimony to the fact he'd had trouble sleeping. His voice had grown louder with his indignation and he was practically panting when he paused in his rant.

"Marius," Narcissa began quietly, her gut churning uncomfortably with a queasy feeling of guilt as she saw the poor state of her friend, "please believe me. I had no idea what Malfoy was planning or doing. Trust me, I'd have happily gone without dinner to keep you out of trouble and I'm not having anything to do with Lu–Malfoy at the moment. I'm really sorry about what's happened. I'm not defending him, but he – Malfoy - doesn't even seem to realise how abhorrent I find what he's done; he's barely any understanding of loyalty at all… Look, if you want me to go to Dippet and own up to my part in the plot, I will. But I won't betray anyone else, even Malfoy."

The truth of Narcissa's contrition must have shown on her face, for Marius simply accepted her apology with a small smile that held much of its old warmth. He pulled her in for a hug, Narcissa rested her chin on his shoulder. His arms were tight but not demanding around her and she unconsciously synced her breathing in time with his as it slowed. Neither were sure, but minutes may have passed in that quiet corridor as they relished the simple acceptance and understanding they found in the quiet corridor. It was good to be friends again.

"But I don't want you to go to Dippet or anything." Marius stipulated. "There's no point us both being in trouble… and speaking of which, I'm sorry but I have to go – detention. I'll see you later."

With a gentle tug on her long braid and a lop-sided grin he was gone. Without him the corridor was cold and for a moment she felt bereft, but she knew their camaraderie was coming back. Since that first evening at the Slytherin table she'd recognised Marius as something of a kindred spirit. He was a contradiction – the friendly rich boy, the light hearted pure blood, the honest Slytherin – and she was growing to love him like a brother for his natural breaking of the mould.

/|\|/|\|/|\

Narcissa breathed a sigh of relief as she stepped out on to platform nine and three quarters. Despite having things with Marius back on even keel, the last week of term had been far from easy. She'd had to fight the dual problems of Bellatrix's attempting interference and many, many, prying letter from home. She'd thrown Bella off the scent by saying 'it' was a pride thing, and claiming that for now Narcissa was following an old rule with Malfoy: treating him mean to keep him keen. From there it had been a matter of placating her parents, who had clearly felt a disturbance in their web of social contacts, by promising she would discuss everything with them during the holidays.

That discussion now loomed over her on a not so distant horizon, but she still felt liberated to be getting away from school for a while. Malfoy had developed a disconcerting habit of turning up everywhere she went and doing nothing more than looking at her. Of course, this meant she couldn't accuse him of anything – it was a free country and he was largely doing as she'd asked and leaving her be. As innocent as looking was, it did nothing to take the pressure off her need to make a final decision. His grey eyes followed her and somehow, despite their cool colour, melted any resolve she'd made against him.

Just now, on the train, he'd inoffensively turned up outside her compartment with Dolohov who wanted some liquorice wands from the trolley. Again Malfoy's gaze had met hers and brought a silent battering ram to the protective walls she had been building against his charm. She knew he'd done something terrible; she really didn't want to forgive him until he acknowledged his offences. But when she saw him, so strong and bright – almost ethereal – it was easy to consider whether he achieved in reality what most Slytherins believed in their head. Perhaps Lucius Malfoy really was so perfect he was exempt from ordinary rules.


	22. Home Sweet Home

The hugest and loudest shout outs to the many wonderful people who reviewed my last chapter: _Mithrendil, ceiilee, MzMalfoy, , _and_ princesspay10. _These guys are wonderful and I am very grateful to them and to everyone else who reads. I hope you enjoy this.

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing and no-one from J K Rowling's wizarding world. All rights to Harry Potter, and recognisable content thereof, go to her.

**Chapter 22**

Home: the familiar austerity of sleek marble and glossy furnishings, the typically cool formality of their parents greeting and the usual fussing of the many house elves. Even the opulence of the Slytherin Common Room couldn't compare to the grandeur, and certainly the scale, of the Black Manor. Narcissa, seated on a plush chaise lounge, sipped at her tea and smiled mildly as Bellatrix monopolised their Mother's attention with lively anecdotes which illustrated the inferiority of most Hogwarts students to Mrs Black's daughters. The opulent furnishings, all gilding and filigree, made an excellent stage for the theatricals.

They had been home for a few hours and after a while her Father had retreated to his study, telling the ladies that he would see them at dinner. Narcissa always got the feeling he wasn't quite as enraptured by Bella's lengthy stories as his wife was. He often dipped into The Prophet or The Oracle when Bellatrix, who did love an audience, had been exhausting one topic for too long. Narcissa could sympathise with his impatience but with no legitimate escape route she simply endured all with a well-practiced smile. Occasionally Druella Black looked to her younger daughters and Bellatrix allowed them to chip in, but largely the pair of them were content to talk uninterrupted. They were so alike and shared such generally similar views that they would never find anything but affirmation and entertainment in each other's conversation.

It was almost time for dinner when Narcissa, stifling a yawn, considered asking for leave to go and dress earlier than usual. Bellatrix had been waxing lyrical on the 'thick skulled' Hufflepuffs who shared her Defence Against the Dark Arts class for quite some time. She'd just finished mimicking their apparently hilarious fear of deadly curses. Narcissa, thoroughly bored and a little uncomfortable, thought she could claim that the journey had worn her out. She didn't get chance to make the request. She was just laying down her tea cup when she heard:

"And Narcissa's been having some difficulty recently. We know the Malfoy's blood is as pure, their society as exclusive and their vaults just as full, as ours… but I must admit I didn't expect the Malfoy boy to tire of our little Cissy _quite_ so quickly."

Three pairs of eyes turned simultaneously towards Narcissa. Andromeda's hazel eyes were closest, on Narcissa's right and glowed with sympathy. Across the room, so similar, were two pairs of ebony: one set was malicious, the other questioning. Narcissa froze and lingering seconds ticked by. Thankfully, a small cough from Andromeda spurred her into quick thinking, and jolted her into the only course of action she could think of.

"Actually, I'm sort of employing a new tactic. A strategy, so to speak, with regards to him. I'm letting him appreciate how much he enjoyed my company… to keep him from taking it for granted…" She looked to Andromeda, who curved her mouth up in a small and discrete, but encouraging smile. "You see there was a – an incident. Malfoy suggested that… I wasn't worth him spending time with my annoying friends… so I'm not having much to do with him."

Narcissa was aware that this wasn't the truth, or even anywhere near it. Malfoy had not said that at all. Still, she thought it covered some of the key themes, but was presented in a way that her parents might accept. She'd have to do some careful phrasing though. Narcissa could see that her mother's aristocratic features were already evidencing confusion and clearly she had questions.

"But who are these friends – who's worth driving Malfoy off?" Druella Black seemed genuinely dumbfounded, her voice was high with interrogation and incredulity.

"Well, it's just one particular guy – and the problem was that I wouldn't take the insult-" Narcissa saw Andromeda give a slight nod, encouraging her to carry on with this tack. Bellatrix was watching her younger sister as Narcissa desperately tried to keep from angering their Mother and her dark eyes were bright with lethal excitement. Narcissa carried on, ignoring Bellatrix "I mean, that he suggested that I wasn't worth some slight irritation. I am a Black heiress with all proper accomplishments and charm, after all, and deserving of any and all attention. Would not you say, Mother?"

Mrs Black gave a curt nod. Bellatrix's thin lips pouted with disappointment and she glared at Narcissa for escaping her trap. Bella was personally very keen to have Narcissa and Malfoy become as official as possible. Bellatrix Black had a shrewd and scheming mind and, with things progressing between Cissy and Lucius, it had not taken her long to figure out how the match could be advantageous to her. She knew that Narcissa having something akin to an engagement would be excellent ammunition for her own battle: to have her parents offer her hand to Lestrange. Thus, she'd hoped their mother would force Narcissa to continue pursuing Malfoy.

Mrs Black was looking pensively at her youngest daughter. There was something about Narcissa these days, perhaps she _was_ becoming more tactical and concerned with family honour – at last. But sometimes the girls face had a look that was almost of blatant relief before she put on the impartial mask that Druella herself had taught the girls. Either way, making sure Malfoy remembered the Blacks were of equal standing with anyone in the wizarding world could only be a good thing for her youngest daughter to be doing. It was paramount – if this match went ahead, that the Malfoy's should realise they were doing the Blacks no social favours.

"Bella darling, Andromeda dear, go and dress for dinner. Narcissa and I will be up in a minute or two." Druella smiled around at all her daughters.

They showed the obedience she expected and the elder two headed to the door. Narcissa watched as they filed through and saw the cunning look in Bellatrix's pale features. Andromeda threw Narcissa a consoling glance as she pulled the door shut by its ornate gold handle and left her alone with the Black family matriarch.


	23. Mother to Daughter

Greetings readers! I hope you're all enjoying summer and you'll like this next chapter. I was writing it over my birthday celebrations and a few new reviewers would make great presents! I must express my deepest thanks to JustAnotherPotterFan1999, MzMalfoy and princesspay10 for reviewing the last chapter as well as VenusInHerHair who reviewd chapter 1 a few days ago. If anyone has chance they really should read VenusInHerHair's stories - I've read a few and they're amazing! Enjoy!

**Disclaimer:** Harry Potter, that universe and all recognisable content belongs to J K Rowling and not to me - unfortunately.

**Chapter 23**

The sound of the doors shutting quickly faded into nothing ad Narcissa firmly placed a look of composure above her features, fighting to have the same calm within her.

The room seemed somehow bigger and less familiar without her sisters sharing the space. The generous proportions and high vaulted ceiling made the room feel, to Narcissa, quite large and echoing with only her mother's cool presence besides herself in it. Despite the substantial fire in the grate, the room did in fact seem slightly chill. The smells of the sumptuous dinner being cooked downstairs had pervaded into the room with the opening and closing of the double doors and Narcissa prayed to Merlin that her stomach would not be so uncouth as to rumble. There was no sound from outside the parlour and as Narcissa shifted uneasily on her seat the rustling of her skirts seemed deafening.

"Don't fidget." Came the sharp reprimand from the corner. Narcissa winced a little and apologised, immediately stilling the hand that had begun to restlessly pleat the fabric of her dress. Druella Black smiled in something like an apology for her harsh tone – she wasn't trying to frighten Narcissa, that wouldn't be helpful at all – and gestured to the foot stool by her chair. Narcissa knew the command of old and quickly sat herself down upon the firm little perch. Usually she would only be required to sit here when there was some guest to impress. It was part of a façade, a tableau of beautiful, biddable daughters and a warm family home; it was her mother's main contribution to securing Mr Black's business deals.

From her new position Narcissa could smell her mother's syrupy perfume and see the fine quality of the fabric that formed her overskirt. The material was silk, embroidered with an abundance of tiny gems which were charmed to move across the skirt in lines. They formed little bouquets of tiny flowers but intermittently the lines of moving jewels strongly resembled snakes. In other families a daughter might rest her head in a motherly lap; Narcissa didn't think the material spread over her mother's knees looked very comfy. It was a while before either of them spoke and Narcissa was brought out of her reverie by Mrs Black's low but commanding voice.

"Narcissa, I must say that I was a little concerned by what has been happening at Hogwarts this term. Over the last few weeks it did seem as though you were forgetting yourself, and shirking the duty you owe the family. Now I have heard from you just what happened – and of the implied slur – I am convinced you acted properly, with decorum. I am decided. You shall have nothing more to do with him until your Father and I see that he is serious about you and entirely aware of our great worth. Let him fret about it for a while. We'll show him that this eagle owl doesn't roost with any ungrateful… pigeon!"

Poor Narcissa began to feel that now familiar twinge of guilt in her stomach. Scheming was a necessity, but untruthfulness wasn't in her nature and she began to feel she truly wasn't cut out for a life of such politics. She was sure she'd made another mess: Mrs Black seemed really annoyed and, while Narcissa was cross with Lucius, Druella could make things severely awkward for him at several balls and functions. She'd begun to nibble her lips during her mother's speech and parted them to say:

"But Mama he probably will just-"

"Your quite right" cut in Druella, assuming in her parental way that she knew where her daughter was taking her objection. "Don't worry about it darling. You've done so, so well with all this stress. I will handle it. I shall send him a Christmas present, it is custom and only right to give a gift if he buys you one. Rest assured it will help settle this whole matter."

Narcissa breathed a sigh of relief; surely this showed her mother intended to be civil and not embarrass anyone. Narcissa's eyes closed as she leant against the wooden arm of her mother's chair and so she missed the calculating look that Druella flashed at the empty room. Thoughtlessly she ran a hand over her daughter's smooth hair. Parts of it were already lightening with the strength of Narcissa's magic. She was beginning to resemble Mr Black's famous grandmother even more closely and Druella knew that her daughter would achieve much – she just had to ensure that Narcissa's future was acceptable to, and worthy of, their lineage.

She'd done well so far. Clearly Narcissa was beginning to see something of her worth and superiority. The Narcissa of childhood and governesses would not have noticed an implied slur and rarely responded to even an explicit one. Druella smiled as she considered the effect close proximity with pox-brained Hufflepuffs and fool-hardy Gryffindors could have on one's self esteem. Narcissa was beautiful, thought Druella, with her pale skin and blue eyes. She would never be as striking as Bellatrix - whose monochrome colouring would always draw the eye - especially while the overall look of her hair was made mid-brown by this transitory state. Equally it didn't seem that she would learn to relish power the way Druella and her eldest did. Still, she _had_ done well this term…

"Narcissa, the full moon is in a few nights. There is a certain ceremony, a ritual amongst our family's women. Usually a girl does not take part until she is thirteen but I am so proud of you I think you will be initiated this year – at the same time as Andromeda."

Narcissa had lifted her head and was looking up at her mother in surprise. She'd never heard of this! But then, that wasn't so surprising: she knew her family history to be full of intrigue, secrets and weird rites. Plus, id Bellatrix had been taking part in some grown-up secret ceremony for the past two years, which had marked her as superior to her sisters then there was no way she would jeopardise that by letting the Quaffle out of the bag. Narcissa drew breath, ready to ask her mother more but Mrs Black anticipated her.

"No questions Cissa, off up the stairs to change with you."

This new positive attitude and praise from her mother might seem a little suspicious and Narcissa was a little confused. But she was a young girl, desperate for her mother's acceptance, eager to be happy and trusting. She grew up with deceivers but she wasn't entirely jaded… Narcissa was eleven, and perhaps still naïve: she happily skipped up the grand staircase, eager to get on with family festivities.

...

_So please review, I'd love to know what you think: What's Druella planning? What's Malfoy going to get as a present? Any ideas about this ritual? All suggestions and hypotheses welcome! _


	24. Lunar Ladies

Hello lovelies! This chapter may be subject to further editing... but I was excited and wanted to post it quickly, so feedback is especially welcome. Many and great thanks to those who reviewed last time: _WildGirlJo _(who doesn't love little women?),_ JustAnotherPotterFan1999_ (who is not just another potter fan to me!), _Professor Mcgonagal_ (very aptly named as their stories are clever and awesome), and _MzMalfoy _(who is just about my most faithful reviewer). Thank you so much. It means an awful lot to me :)

**Disclaimer:**Harry Potter and all recognisable content was created by J K Rowling, I just borrow and embroider.

**Chapter 24**

It was dark and quiet in the Black House. Narcissa knew it was the night of the full moon, – three days after she'd arrived home and spoken with her mother – she had had to gather moss at noon to replenish her potion supplies for the next term. The day was now well over. The sun had set early on one of the shortest days in the year and it wouldn't be long before the moon rose over the shadowy wall of the forest trees.

Narcissa sat alone in her elegant bedroom suite, trusting there would be a knock on her door when the time came. Her rooms were gracefully decorated, all creams, pale green and soft gold. On retiring she had let Floss help her into the usual lily-white night dress, deliberately keeping up all the pretences of normal routine, and she now sat on the plush carpet before the fire place. The red embers and glowing coals of the dwindling fire were throwing out heat and Narcissa's cheeks were rosy with the warmth. She stretched out her dainty feet onto the warm marble hearth and leaned back on her hands as she thought.

It was all rather thrilling. She'd only arrived at Hogwarts a few months earlier and now she was faced with what seemed to be another rite of passage – one Narcissa hadn't even realised existed. Of course, this was personal to her family rather than confirming her place in wizarding Britain, but perhaps that made it _more_ important. It certainly didn't make her any less nervous. Narcissa had her winter cloak draped over an arm chair and her dragon hide flying boots laid out in readiness. She assumed that the night's events would at least involve her roaming the chilly halls of the Manor, though when she thought of what else it might entail her stomach squirmed, seeming to shrink back towards her spine.

Narcissa's lips pursed as she leant further back in an attempt to calm her discomfiture. She gazed up at the blank canvas of the pale plastered ceiling. Well, almost blank. In one corner there was a dent, a small puncture wound from where a magical mobile had spun above her cot. There were also a few splatters of vibrant orange that had been missed in the clean-up operation years ago – Sirius had come to stay, and the then five and seven year olds had tried their fumbling hands at free-style potion brewing. Narcissa was smiling at the memory of her younger cousin, covered in vivid gunge but laughing his head off, when she heard a careful tap at the door.

She was up in an instant, the fond expression replaced by barely veiled apprehensive excitement. Narcissa slipped into her boots as she made her way to the door, the cool air already setting goose bumps on her pale skin as she left the immediate vicinity of the fire. She opened the door, pulling it back soundlessly on its well-oiled hinges. By the soft light of the dying fire Narcissa could make out Andromeda and Bellatrix waiting in the dark passage.

"Come on Ciss, they're ready and it's almost time." Spoke the eldest.

The three girls made their way down stairs and navigated through the dark mansion onto the lawns. Narcissa tried in vain to get her sisters attention and ask through gestures where they were going. Eventually she gave in and began to speak but Bellatrix turned her big black eyes on her and shook her head. Clearly silence was important.

As her own eyes adjusted to the greater darkness Narcissa began to see that they headed towards the wood, where the moon hung low and ethereal above the tree tops. It was a cool night, especially under the trees once they reached them, as the sun never touched the forest floor to warm it. Luckily, Narcissa had brought her best cloak – although it was lined with squirrel fur it was charmed to keep her warm – and so she didn't need to huddle into it, but could lift the hem to keep it free of the debris on the ground. The forest floor was hard with frost, but much of the wood was pine and so needles and even cones were scattered liberally; the latter frequently made all the sisters stumble.

The earthy smell of the trees and the fresh, clean scent of growing leaves were refreshing, and Narcissa was glad of the distraction that the uneven ground offered. Before she realised it, they had walked up a slight incline and into a clearing. She hadn't seen it before, but it must be the right spot. The smooth elliptical shape of the clearing was encircled by a ring of great elms; in the centre stood her mother and Aunt Walburga. It was quite astounding to Narcissa. The two sisters-in-law stood facing each other, looking up at the sky and chanting. Narcissa couldn't understand the language, but the words, sounds, were rhythmic and menacing. They seemed to slowly be gaining speed and volume, growing, building up to… something.

The velocity of this slow change only increased when Bellatrix joined in, standing between them, facing her sisters. Her face was wild with excitement, her black hair flung back and her skin iridescent with the light of the moon as it came into the clearing. The three witches formed a shallow triangle. Andromeda tugged Narcissa's hand and, although she didn't like it, they moved forward to form a circle with their family. Narcissa was uneasy. She could feel pressure building within and without her as they repeated the sounds. She'd chanted over potions but it wasn't like this. Used words she didn't understand in charms but none of them had left her so enraptured as her sister, mother and aunt seemed now.

She would have turned tail and ran but she didn't want to shame her mother. Part of Narcissa was still proud, pleased that she'd been allowed to join in early, but she really didn't like this. There was a sense of energy growing in the clearing as the moon began to centre over them. It made the fine hairs at the nape of her neck stand up with nerves and her muscles ache with tension as she was instinctively poised for fight or flight.

Suddenly the chanting stopped. The moon was right over head, illuminating the five women like Merlin's own spotlight. Narcissa had a second to let out her long held breath, before an irresistible force she could not name knocked her over. Backwards. She felt her mother's hand clasp her own in the dark, and Andromeda's belatedly grab her other moments later. Narcissa was transfixed by the moon. The pearlescent sphere seemed so tangibly close, like she could reach up and pluck it from the sky. She stared so hard it seemed to grow in her sight, filling the whole of her vision.

When the wind brushed over her face and she somehow felt that she was turning, Narcissa realised they were floating. She grasped tighter at the hands in hers, immediately afraid. It was inexplicable. The five of them were hovering in the air, just in line with the high tops of the elms. We must have floated so gently, Narcissa thought. They were now slowly spinning, suspended at one level, but whirring. Almost like they were trying to draw the moon down to them. She didn't know _how_ this had happened. She was quite sure no one had cast a spell.

Narcissa was quickly aware of a thrumming power in her. A growing sense of her body as plucked string, energy restlessly building. She closed her eyes as she relished this new awareness. She could feel her magic singing in her veins. No, not her veins, but something akin to them: deeper in her body, secret channels, just as vital as those that carried blood. She felt more alive, ecstatic with her own potential. She relaxed into the air as she might on the smooth surface of the lake, and revelled in her new feeling of mystic strength, vitality and promise.


	25. The Lunar Queen

Thank you to MzMalfoy for reviewing... the oddities of the last chapter are partially explained in this one so please do let me know what you think - I hope you enjoy it!

Disclaimer: I am not J K Rowling and so do not own Harry Potter or any recognisable content.

**Chapter 25**

Narcissa was once more alone in her room. Snuggled under the thick comfort of her duvet, she struggled to drift off and instead reflected on what she had experienced. After they'd all floated back to earth and their senses had again been grounded, Mrs Black had recited a tale in verse, the original legend of the Black's Norman ancestors. Of course Narcissa had heard it before, but not thought of it in years. The myth claimed that one of the original Black men had wedded Diana, a demi-goddess. Diana was supposed to be the celestial deity of the moon and her ethereal divinity and faery magic ran, according to the tale, in the blood of the Black family.

It had just seemed a fairy tale to Narcissa when her Nanny had told it – on a par with Babbity Rabbity and the others, just a little more glamorous. As a young girl it had captured her imagination, and she had doodled a divinely fair beauty all over her sketch books. That had just been a phase… the next year she had discovered the tales of Camelot and was enthralled by them instead. But seeing the family matriarchs and her sister after the ceremony it was clear that they, at least, took the Diana Myth seriously. Rumour was that the almost translucently fair skin, which was so characteristic of the Black family, was the legacy of the Lunar Queen Diana. Narcissa looked at her own pale hand, luminous in the darkness, and reasoned that the colouring could easily be coincidence. Yet the thrumming energy that had grown with her proximity to the full moon of the Winter Solstice and the way her magic still seemed to be singing through her, was much harder to explain away.

Narcissa was a practical creature, she didn't want to believe in such old-fashioned nonsense. In truth she liked her legends confined to the pages of books. In History of Magic they had already talked about the pagans and druids who experienced phenomenon during the Solstices. Sat there in the dusty classroom with the ghost of a teacher droning on Narcissa had found the 'inexplicable occurrences' laughable. Out there in the midst of nature, under the sensational phenomena of the Solstice moon, and here in the darkness of her ancient home, it was actually quite believable.

Narcissa tried to imagine what her friends would think; whether Amelia, Marius or even Malfoy would ever take the tail of Diana or Narcissa's own experiences seriously. Narcissa doubted it, besides, it seemed a family secret. And she didn't want to slur her reputation by seeming to make up nonsense. She'd had a few joking comments about being a daughter of the moon goddess from those at Hogwarts who remembered the story. They had only been teasing, the idea was a joke. Narcissa had a feeling that when she returned to Hogwarts the night's activities would seem too surreal for her to take seriously either – unless she decided, definitely, what had happened _before_ she went back.

…

Narcissa gently tapped on a door at the other end of the East wing, before pushing it open. The room was filled with soft yellow light that streamed forth from the fire between two sash windows and turning her head Narcissa caught sight of the room's occupant in a corner by a lamp. Andromeda was stooped over the book in her lap but she glanced up to give a brief smile when Narcissa approached. Seeing her sister was pre-occupied, Narcissa perched opposite her on the side of the bed. Andromeda's room was all ivory and many shades of purple. The armchair she occupied was upholstered in mauve brocade, and the sheets where Narcissa sat were of pale lavender silk. After a while Andromeda slid a scrap of gilded leather into the book she read and pressed it closed, looking up at her little sister. The title was mostly covered by Andromeda's clasped hands, but it started 'Myths of'.

Narcissa felt comfortable enough to dive right into the reason for her visit. "Andromeda… I suppose you had more time to prepare for this? I mean, you're thirteen so they probably told you it was-" Andromeda was nodding. "I didn't really believe in all that… did you? I mean, do you feel _different_? Because I, I think I might…"

Andromeda waited for Narcissa to finish, and soon her little sister did trail off. The wonder and particularly the uncertainty in the younger girl's blue eyes and half-whispered voice sent a pang of compassion to Andromeda's heart. Narcissa looked particularly young sat on the big bed in her night dress nibbling her lip, and Andromeda felt she should reassure her as much as she could.

"Yes, I knew something of what we were going to do. At least, I knew it was linked to the Solstice and replenishing our powers… sort of letting our magic rejuvenate? Mother reckons the ritual is half the reason why the women in our family have had such strong powers. I didn't realise how linked the ceremony was to the moon though – that was quite extraordinary. I hadn't expected it to revolve around that old legend. And I didn't really want to believe it but I _do_ feel different. More aware of the magic in me, you know?"

Andromeda spoke with such sincerity, allowing her own awe to show on her face, that Narcissa was quickly comforted. She felt relieved, and could now describe with some confidence the feeling she had experienced of magic channelling through her. Andromeda agreed with what she said. The two girls phrased what they had felt differently, and the charging of magic did seem to have manifested itself a little differently, but there were enough similarities for them both to feel reassured.

Eventually the sisters surrendered to sleep that would have been longer coming without having the other to confide in. The night had been long and revelatory. The plump sickle of the moon now hung low in the sky, already beginning to wane, and the frosty night was still and quiet. Beneath her fluttering eyelids, Narcissa dreamt: she was flying once more, effortlessly rising and relishing the freedom of flight. She could almost feel her hair being swept back by the wind; hear the quiet sound of it as she drifted along. In her mind's eye the moon was still high and from the ground a fair skinned and silver eyed faery watched her soar.


	26. Posing

**Hello everyone :D** This chapter is a little slower paced than the last two, but there are a few things going on. And on the subject of the next chapter, it is my pleasure to thank WildGirlJoe, MzMalfoy, Professor Mcgonagal and . Thank you so much for your kind reviews, and thank you everyone for reading. It means so much to me. Enjoy!

**Chapter 26**

At breakfast the next day Narcissa was looking for signs of change in the other women of the household. And she was not disappointed. Perhaps it was because she was expecting it, but Narcissa found evidence of rejuvenation in her mother and sisters. They looked remarkably well; even more striking than usual. They appeared utterly rested when she knew they'd been up late, and their eyes and hair were bright and shining.

She smiled around as the whole family ate and talked at the breakfast table. Despite herself Narcissa felt a growing sense of camaraderie with Bellatrix and even her mother; she'd always had quite strong fraternal feelings for Andromeda, but, now she was included in their secret, she began to feel greater unity with the older two. They all shared a knowing glance when Mr Black paid them a shared compliment about him being 'surrounded by beauties'. Narcissa felt more relaxed in her own home than she had in some time and joined in more readily with the family conversation.

When the debris of the meal had been magically cleared away and the girls were setting down their empty tea cups their mother raised a hand, bidding them not to rise from the table yet. She flashed them a brief smile and looked at Cygnus pointedly until he glanced up, saw her expression, and set down his copy of _The Oracle_. He then fixed his gaze on his wife as she began to issue her orders for the day.

"I hope you have not forgotten that as it is Christmas Eve we shall be sitting for our annual portrait this morning. I have had appropriate attire laid out on your beds and expect to find everyone ready and waiting in the drawing room at ten o'clock. Also, there is the ball at the Goyle's tonight. Your father and I will be attending as will you Bellatrix. We will leave after dinner and I expect you two to employ yourselves well for the evening." With that Druella quirked her head in dismissal and the girls filed out. She picked up her refilled tea cup, and Cygnus went back to his paper.

…

Half an hour later the family were assembled in the drawing room before the artist. He was 'a talent but unfortunately half-blood', or so her mother had muttered indiscreetly as they took up poses. Narcissa had flushed red with embarrassment for the man, and knew her face was glowing in shocking contrast to the pale turquoise silk of her roes. When she had dressed in her room she thought the shade very becoming as it displayed her Slytherin affiliation while complimenting the crystalline blue of her eyes; she had felt confident and poised before but was mortified by her mother's cruel comments.

Her family was full of skilled diplomats. Any Black, or indeed Rosier, could manipulate and charm and read any situation perfectly. When it suited them. Clearly an ill-bred wizard who was in service to them was below her mother's consideration. Narcissa wasn't sure if he _had_ heard but as she stared with the fixed smile on her lips she noticed the pulse thudding fast in his neck as he worked. There was also a muscle that jumped in his jaw while her mother continued to mutter to Bellatrix – both of them cackling at their inside jokes, which were probably at his expense.

Narcissa felt a little irritation at their inconsiderate behaviour. The rest of her family, but her mother and Bellatrix in particular, were carelessly moving about. Narcissa didn't deem it worth making herself uncomfortable, but she thought it common courtesy to generally stay still and make the man's job a little easier. They were moaning about having people of such low standing in the house but they were effectively making sure his job would take longer than necessary. And Narcissa knew he couldn't rush: this was his living and if Mrs Black thought his art below standard he would not be paid.

As shame at their behaviour rose to the front of her mind, she could not help but admire his composure: He was being insulted; he was trying to do a difficult portrait for the most demanding customers; the subjects were being remarkably unhelpful in every way. Yet he bore it all silently, and seemed to immerse himself in the task at hand. His self-possession was excellent, beyond what Narcissa would even expect from a pureblood. Yet his blood was far from pure. Narcissa filed the thought away, for perusal later… if she truly began doubting part of the philosophy of blood purity now, there was no way she'd be able to keep this silly smirk plastered on her face.

…

That night Narcissa sat alone in the Music Room, practicing a concerto on the grand piano there. She had to admit, she'd been neglecting her music while at Hogwarts and her mother's insistence that she practice while they were out had not been a bad idea. Narcissa also played the harp, but she had been learning piano for longer and as this was one of her favourite pieces she found herself swaying a little on the stool. Her fine fingers moved with little thought and the appearance of no effort over the smooth keys and she was quite immersed in the waves of sound flowing around her.

She had not played this in a while. Although it was complex she had mastered it quite some time ago and it was one she often played for audiences at different soirées. Her mother would want her to learn something even more impressive, more magnificent, and Narcissa had been working on sections from more intricately woven pieces earlier. This was better than having a break for Narcissa. As her hands moved without much conscious instruction her mind was left free to wander unburdened in the vale of her mind. She smirked as she thought of how exceptionally beautiful the Black women always looked in the portraits. She used to think it was the artist trying to flatter them into paying more, but now she could see it was something else. And she could see why the portrait was always done just after the Winter Solstice. _Clever Mama_ Narcissa thought as she chuckled freely, the sound hidden by the music.

Narcissa's finger danced along the instrument, instigating the key change. The piece took on a darker tone, more minor than major and Narcissa's thoughts turned to Lucius – as they were so want to do. He was still an enigma in many ways, the situation a true predicament. She had become accustomed to him favouring her, not just with gifts but in deferring to her – adding to her all-important status and bringing others to respect her more. He was dangerously charming and darkly addictive. There was a deep resonating strength and assurance in Lucius that had her questioning everything in the world, except him.

Her hands worked almost in opposition, at different ends of the keys and often at a contrasting tempo; something about this lead her thoughts to Marius. She could barely forgive herself for allowing the betrayal to happen, but he had. Malfoy thought him dispensable because of his family's lower status. Yet Marius _was_ valuable, a rarity. Marius was too intrinsically good to be Slytherin… he was frank like a Gryffindor, loyal like a Hufflepuff. He always seemed slightly naïve and with his boisterous sense of humour he felt almost like a child to her. Narcissa felt duty bound and almost protective of him. He was light in the shadowy corners of the Common Room, a purer substance in the dark.

The song was drawing to a close. One of Narcissa's hands danced slowly, bringing the low powerful notes towards a great crescendo. The other moved with fluid grace to produce lilting high notes sounding pure and joyous in the air. Forgetting her troubles, Narcissa revelled in the music swelling around her. The dark and strong, the bright and sweet blending to form an intricate harmony that was richer than the sum of its parts.


	27. Glittering Gifts

Hello everyone, it's finally here! Chapters later than I meant it to be... still, Christmas! Thank you all for your patience, and thanks to my wonderful reviewers: Guest, Professor Mcgonagal, and NymphadoracallmeTonks. I hope you all enjoy it! And I encourage any LoTR fans to check out Mithrendil's story A Lost King - tis beyond what I manage.

**Chapter 27**

Christmas day was a predictably lavish affair in the Black household. Dignified certainly, but lavish to the point of impractical decadence. Narcissa was roused from peaceful sleep by a trio of alto House Elves singing, in some ancient language, a tune of suitable jollity. Narcissa sank back into her pillows for a moment, wishing she could go back to sleep, before propping her groggy limbs up against the headboard. The song ended, Narcissa clapped politely and the elves Dissapparated leaving behind them three enchanted birds of silk. The birds' fabricated plumage was bright and bejewelled making them nothing like the creatures they imitated. They circled Narccissa before dropping three cards onto the bedspread and sweeping out of the window.

Birds this year, considered Narcissa, pretty tame. Last year it had been satin salamanders that spat the cards at unsuspecting and still sleepy family members. The fabric animals delivering cards had been her mother's idea a few years ago, and was now firmly rooted in the family's yuletide celebrations. Traditions, be they recent additions to ceremony or ones from ancient ritual, ruled the Black household. Particularly at Christmas when _everything_ must exude wealth, and confirm the Black's high status.

Narcissa arrived at the breakfast table having dressed, as her mother would wish, in fine dress robes of silver. They shimmered as she moved in the pale dawn light that was flooding through the high arched windows of the breakfast parlour. Above the eating family enchanted garlands were hung, great boughs evergreen with perpetually blooming winter roses and bright red berries, all gilded with real gold. Gold seemed to be the theme this year… even Narcissa's pumpkin juice glittered with tiny golden sparkles.

After breakfast there was much cheek pecking and hand pressing – complete with coolly affectionate words - as the family made their way to the parlour for the presentation of gifts. The gold theme continued in here: the large fire was banked with gilded logs, there were vases full of sparkling baubles on the coffee tables and more birds circled in the air sprinkling golden glitter around the room. The glitter fell but dissolved before reaching the floor, a shower of glinting sugar melting into warm tea.

The presents were deliberately fair. The main gift that each girl received from their parents were of equal value and indeed very similar in general. For Bellatrix a set of jewellery in black onyx: simple drop earrings, a thick choker formed of large chunks of onyx interspersed with crystal, and several bangles studded with the black stone. The jewel was perfect for her, not just in the dark shade but in the glinting surface and misleading perception of liquid depth.

For Andromeda amethysts with touches of turquoise topaz. Her earrings were long and intricate, formed of the tiniest crystals linked together by supple silver and woven almost into little plaits. Her necklace was a coil of sliver and suspended upon it was a large pebble of a pendant: an amethyst that appeared to have been smoothed by a thousand admiring caresses. She also received a ring set with three stones – topaz, amethyst, topaz. The vibrancy of the stones and the myriad of bright colours reflected from them reminded Narcissa of a rainbow in a waterfall and suited Andromeda's strong personality (she herself was a force of nature).

Narcissa was bidden to open her own small parcel last of the three girls. She peeled back the gold tissue to find an exquisite string of pearls with matching stud earrings. Well, not so much a string but a rope. The pearls were large and the strand of them long enough to wrap around Narcissa's delicate throat at least three times. Narcissa was pleased so greatly that her composure slipped to the point where tears gathered in her eyes. They were perfect. The colour of smooth cream, their iridescent sheen reminded her of the moon – and of that night, and the power thrumming through her.

Each girl thanked their (for once genuinely) smiling parents and moved onto other parcels. Narcissa received several books, most to do with her classes but a couple of fiction novels which her parents begrudgingly tolerated. Wrapped in purple tissue, and bearing a tag from Marius, was the modest but thoughtful gift of a sleek peacock quill and a double packet of her favourite 'Dragon' biscuits. There was also a set of crystal phials from her Aunt and Uncle which was a highly luxurious version of the standard equipment. Her Mother and Father must have been bragging about her early success in the potions lab.

The last formal gift Narcissa unwrapped from shimmering paper was a heavy leather bound book with gilded edges which glinted in the flickering radiance of the fire. On closer inspection book was of poetry, each page holding some verse describing love. Some spoke of the affliction and great pain that was unrequited love, others revelled in the mysterious power of unconditional love and Narcissa had heard some of them, although many were new to her and possibly of muggle origin. Flicking through the pages a glided parchment note fell out.

From Lucius. He wished her a Merry Christmas and explained that phrases in the poems which most described his feelings towards her at any given moment, would be highlighted when she looked in the book. Narcissa's eyes immediately flicked back to the page and a highlighted first line 'had we but world enough and time your coyness lady were no crime' and gasped at the complex magic that would have been required to create such a gift. Lucius closed his letter with assurances that she was in his thoughts and he looked forward to seeing her again.

…

The drawing room of Malfoy Manor was furnished in cream and emerald, the dark oak panels on the walls made the room seem as gloomy and shadowed as the forest they were taken from. The brightness of winter sun and the glow of a warm fire could not combat the pronounced darkness in the room. Three blonde figures sat in great dignity about the room and gifts were piled around in various stages of being unwrapped.

Lucius was sat next to his mother. She was gushing and fussing over a green velvet jewellery bag; beyond being easily impressed by trinkets, Mrs Malfoy had decided after serious thought that she approved of the gift's sender. Lucius himself was a little flattered and certainly pleased by the princely gift of gold and pearl cufflinks. Yet he found himself distracted by the note that he had concealed from his mother by tucking it into the wrist of his sleeve. The scrap of parchment bore the Black family crest, but that wasn't particularly unusual. Still the Latin '_Nil Desperandum'_ in beautiful cursive, but unfamiliar, script did not seem like Narcissa. Not at all.


	28. A Walk and a Talk

**Author's note:** Hello everyone, I hope you're enjoying the summer, it's lovely weather here! Anyway, enough unprofessionalism: I wish to thank NymphadoracallmeTonks (awesome name btw), and Mithrendil (who's story _A Lost King_ continues wonderfully, and a little saucy) for their kind reviews. As always I would like to thank all the wonderful unknown people for reading and say I hope you'll enjoy it.

I'm so sorry for the mix up everyone! After I got 3 confused I realised I must have posted the wrong thing! I'm mortified but this should be right - and new! I'm really sorry!

**Disclaimer: I own nothing, not the wing of a snitch nor a pair of Dumbledore's specks. I'm sorry if your disappointed - so am I :P**

**Chapter 28**

Boxing Day dwindled into the following nameless days and the excitement of Christmas was quite over. The girls could look at their presents and prepare for the school term but really with no more Solstice and no more Christmas for a year, the previously charged atmosphere was rather deflated. Narcissa had asked her mother, on a whim, for permission to take a morning walk on the terrace. Mrs Black had begrudgingly allowed the 'foolish eccentricity' given the foul weather and the one-off had grown into a routine of habit.

It was about four days after Christmas and Narcissa was pounding the paving stones in front of the West Lawn with her breath fogging up the air in shallow clouds. The wind was icy, bitingly cold and tugged at her clothes. Stray strands of hair that had escaped the confines of her up-do and hood were whipped stingingly against her cheeks and near blindingly into her eyes. She'd try to walk so the wind would blow her hair harmlessly backwards or forwards, but it was the only part of the weather that was changeable – it buffeted Narcissa this way and that, seeming unable to choose one course.

The snow had falllen heavily on Christmas Eve and intermittently since then. The ground was generally thick with the powdery white stuff that seemed to muffle and shroud any movement on it. The terrace was free of snow and ice and Narcissa hadn't made the connection, but the House Elves had had to keep clearing it off for her walks. Mrs Black did worry that her daughter may slip. Narcissa's footsteps rang rhythmically, almost hollowly and between that and the wind in her ears she could hear nothing and be almost alone with her thoughts. Until she approached the south side of the house and became aware of a tapping.

She paused in her striding, reaching a gloved had up to hold her hood in place as she glanced about for the noise. It got a little louder and Narcissa found herself reflexively looking up, right at the source of the sound. Her Father. At the window of the upper library. No longer tapping the window with his ring but gesturing at her to come up to him. This was highly singular and it was curiosity, as well as respect for her Father, that had Narcissa rushing to the stairs.

Mr Black rose from a dark leather chair when his youngest daughter entered the library, her cheeks still flushed from the cold though her cloak was gone. He gestured her to the seat he had moments before occupied and moved to take another once she was sat down. He surveyed his aoughter: the youngest, the sweetest… the one whom he worried for most. Bellatrix was set on a path that he could not change and his wife would not wish him to. Andromeda's future was uncertain but she was stubborn and independent, he knew she would fair well. But there was something about his little Cissa. Maybe it was just her youth but she often seemed so conflicted, often uneasy and unsure. She saw every side and it was this… empathy, that so complicated things in a noble Slytherin house.

"Enjoying your walk my dear?" When Narcissa assured him that she had been, but she was happy to sit with him, he continued. "Good. Now Cissa, I just wanted to make sure that you were… that everything is alright, after ehm, after the ceremony. Without your mother listening in I mean. – and you needn't look so shocked young lady, I may have inherited much of my fortune but I'm not an unintelligent wizard. I won't pretend to know what goes on with you ladies but my sisters and yours didn't join in until they were older. Poppet, you will let me help you, with any problems you have…?"

Narcissa was a little aghast. She had no idea her Father was even slightly aware of the events at the Solstice. Not to mention he was usually so taciturn, one for shoulder squeezing in support rather than pep-talks and that was quite a speech. She merely nodded. Really she felt great, the effects of that night were gradually wearing off but she'd been left with a lingering awareness of her magic which Narcissa thought a good thing.

"Also, I don't want you to feel pressured. I know political matches are normal here and they can be arranged as early as from birth but I put my foot down against that for you girls. I hoped it would buy you some time, some freedom. It is my opinion that you'll have to know who you are before you can see who fits you and despite what your Mother thinks there a few subtle things a Black woman can be – I promise. So, spend time with the people that make you happy, make the odd mistake – as long as it's discrete – enjoy the classes you enjoy and not the ones that Malfoy boy thinks are worthy. Just remember where you come from as you find out where you're going and honour our family and name. Alright?"

Narcissa smiled weakly and grasped her Father's outstretched hands. In truth she felt a little tearful. Things had been a little awkward between Narcissa and her Father since he had scolded her for shouting at her Mother a couple of months ago. She'd always before that believed him to be firmly on 'her side'. She'd grown to realise he wouldn't acknowledge sides that divided the family but this show of support had reassured her. Now armed with a more diverse list of advice, Narcissa found she couldn't wait to get back to Hogwarts.

Ad she left the library Narcissa considered and decided it would be best to save that advice _for _Hogwarts. At least for now. There was the last and first fortune of the year to contend with before returning to school: the Rosier's New Year's Eve Ball. Under the watchful eye of her Mother and the often disapproving glances of her maternal family, showcasing a new outlook would never be a wise decision. So the joys of that elitist gathering, with everyone a peacock in full plume, must be endured stoically.


	29. Another Bloody Ball

**I'm sorry for the wait: not-a-proper-writer-writer's-block I'm afraid. **I'd like to thank the wonderful reviewers who cured it and they are NymphadoracallmeTonks, Bhuvi, Mithrendil, MzMalfoy, and two lovely guest reviewers. Especial thanks to those who pointed out my mistake last chapter - thanks guys. So please enjoy.

Disclaimer: Still not JKR, still have no rights to the Harry Potter universe we know and love.

**Chapter 29**

Narcissa stared broodily into the glass of red punch she was clutching. It was not a boozy liquid, on the contrary her mother had urged her to sup that rather than the heady mulled-wine which was also being offered around. A silver tray of the taller wine goblets moved past her at waist height, hiding the House Elf that was carrying it, and Narcissa got a strong, nauseating whiff of sweetly spiced alcohol. She was stood with haughty posture and sulky expression at one edge of the formal gallery, half hidden by a tall pedestal boasting a hugely lavish flower arrangement. It had exotic 'bird of paradise' flowers in it, dotting the piece of living art with spikey petals. To Narcissa, they looked like real birds, abstracted but trapped flightless in the green. It was a grim thought.

These parties never brought out the best in her. The room was full of the circulating elite, all swirling and shining like some bloated school of fish. It was about nine in the evening and the party was in full swing. As few people had left yet, and even the most fashionably late had now shown up, each of the Rosier's entertaining rooms was packed. Despite the arctic weather, it would have been unbearably hot were it not for the enchanted snow. Tiny and perfect, icing-sugar white flakes cascaded from the high chandeliers and candelabra, cooling the air and evaporating just above the sea of heads. The magic was similar to that of the Christmas glitter at Black Manor and Narcissa surmised that her Mother and Aunt had been sharing tips there was rivalry between the two matriarchs, and each would happily outshine the other, a lack of grandeur in one house would reflect badly on the other branch of the family too.

Narcissa knew she belonged in this environment. Stately Ballrooms were her natural habitat. But these Balls were just frustrating, and never failed to sour her mood. According to strict protocol - as it was a family hosting the event - she could: attend, but only for the first few hours; dance, but only with male relatives; get dressed up, but only in what her Mother and the hostess had both approved. In the most archaic and, in Narcissa's opinion, dubious terms she was not 'out' in society.

Narcissa generally held with tradition. She liked her social standing, her luxury and her House Elves to wait on her, but on nights like that one she felt positively revolutionary. She had danced a short waltz with her Father not long after she arrived and another a while later with her Uncle – at his insistence. He teased her mercilessly and even that early on she had been fed up and in no mood to humour him. Since then she had done very little. She'd had a bit of a giggle with Andromeda at the expense of an elderly lady dressed almost entirely in pink feathers. She'd just started chatting with Sirius who was filling her in on the new three quarter-sized broom he'd got for Christmas when his mother dragged him away – he and Regulus had an early escape from the tedium of grown up parties.

Narcissa was contemplating absconding to the Library to try and find a good book and wait out the last hour before she could leave the party when a firm hand took the punch glass from her hand and set it down. The sound of false compliments, fake laughter and the low hum of classical music disguised the hiss Bellatrix unleashed on her ear.

"You look like a grumpy toddler. Need I remind you, that if you marry anyone it will be someone circulating here tonight and you _must_ be conscious of making a good impression? _Smile. _What would Mother say? I'm glad I found you before your sour expression could cause too much damage. Now come along, you Andromeda and I are up next in the Music Room. Play the harp – you'll need that accomplishment to make up for your sulking."

As Bellatrix finished her tirade they were already passing out of the room, Narcissa's hand caught firmly in Bellatrix's. Both girls smiled gaily, charmingly, at everyone they passed even as one was annoyed and the other a little hurt. If Bellatrix hadn't swanned off to try and be on Lestrange's radar Narcissa wouldn't have been so alone and fed up. Bellatrix could be fun when she wanted to be, but recently she'd seemed very caught up in… politics… of all kinds really. Narcissa would never admit it, but she missed the time when the three Black sisters were more of a team. And as much as she didn't want to admit it, even to herself, Narcissa would put up with a lot to be closer to her big sister again.

…

The Black sisters finished their piece. They were well practiced and knew many songs that could showcase their talents. Tonight they had performed just three. Amongst the rousing applause that followed their playing, other birds in their brightest feathers twittered and preened anxiously to get a turn – many older than the three and with a more urgent need to show case any accomplishments. The three knew there task was done after those three songs. They had established their superiority in the field of music and made sure almost any act following them would suffer by comparison. Bellatrix had decided on three song, as usual eager to give the impression of modesty – which was one virtue she sadly lacked. Not that any Black had much of it: they got what they wanted and were always assured that what they had and what they were was the best.

Narcissa's blushing habit however, went beyond the illusion of modesty to suggesting she believed herself unworthy. It must have been showing then because as they left the little stage Bellatrix gave a warning tug to the back of her dress. To minimise the noticeability of her glowing cheeks Narcissa kept her posture erect but tilted her head down slightly, letting the tendrils of warm brown hair that had been left free of her knot fall forward. She couldn't see much, but that didn't seem to matter until he hand had been taken and placed onto the dark sleeve of expensive dress robes. Glancing at the arm she noticed a cream pearl at the cuff of the man's undershirt, just as a familiar voice began to speak.

"Narcissa," ah, so this was what Bellatrix had been trying to warn her of. "That was wonderful… a man could be forgiven for thinking you were trying to impress someone. The display was, truly, magnificent."


	30. Prince Charming?

Thanks to reviewers: Mz Malfoy, NymphadoracallmeTonks and WildGirlJo. Aa always I cannot hope to express how much any feed-back encourages me and helps with the actual writing process. You guys are brilliant, thank you so much. Hope you enjoy it!

Disclaimer: All rights go to the brilliant J K Rowling and those she chooses to share them with (sadly not me!)

**Chapter 30**

Narcissa was aghast; she hadn't expected to see him. Glancing up at the face belonging to the arm she leant on she confirmed that it was indeed _him. _Lucius. Whom she had not seen since she told him to leave her alone, and who had since then sent her a most thoughtful gift, which seemed almost a declaration of love. He had shown himself to be ruthless and faithless to most people, but continued to be considerate to her. Despite her principles, Narcissa found something in this preferential treatment flattering. He never failed to make her feel special, even while infuriating her.

And now he was here, in her Aunt's Music Room, at the annual ball. He was dressed in black dress robes with precise elegance. His thick, white-gold hair was tied in a black velvet ribbon and just brushed the bottom of his neck. The style showed more of his aristocratic face, emphasising the austere planes of his cheeks and brow and making his pointed chin more prominent. It made him look grown up, like Prince Charming right out if a fairy tale.

Narcissa noticed all of this in a heartbeat of gazing upward, but once her eyes hit his she dipped her head. Observing the plump cream pearl at his cuff, she fixed her gaze on that. She saw what it meant – her mother had chosen his Christmas present and it was a perfect match for the string of spheres around her neck. Clearly her mother still thought they were a pair: suited and matched, a set. It pushed a lump to her throat to think of her mother's hopes and all they could expect, which she had to swallow around to speak.

"I wasn't expecting to see you here Mr Malfoy." She said, her voice a soft leaf on the breezy hum of the crowd.

"Such formality! Come Narcissa, you needn't be so coy." He returned. She could almost hear the confident smirk in his arrogant drawl.

"I am _not_ being coy." She declared on an irritated hiss as he led them to the refreshment stand, her hand firmly pressed between his forearm and side. "I didn't know you were coming. I couldn't remember seeing you here previously; even in the short time I have been allowed to stay before."

"Yes, well, your Uncle has some business with my Father. But still, you needn't pretend you're not pleased to see me." At that moment Narcissa had been looking up at him as he passed her a dish of ice-cream. She was going to honestly admit that she was a little glad that he was there, when he continued in that same cocky voice. "Shouldn't you be trying to reel me back in by now? You said you'd give me an answer at the start of term and we both know what that will be, don't we? You've let me 'sweat' for a while, had your chance to show you're not easily won, even made sure everyone knows both our families are equally keen for a match, but clearly it's time to be sensible again."

Narcissa was struggling to keep an impassive, high-society girl façade as incredulity ran riot in her head. The dish of ice-cream stayed untouched in her hand, her fingers gripping automatically while she tried to think of what to say. He's just _wrong, _she thought. He misjudges me over and over and just because he thinks he's a wizarding prince and darling of the pure doesn't mean the rest of us agree! Narcissa slowly calmed her thoughts, prepared her voice with frost and put the coolness of ice shards in her pale blue eyes.

"My dear Malfoy, I had not made any decision, but now I see you here all dressed up and grown up… well, you've just shown me that really I cannot resist fate." Malfoy's smirk grew tenfold as she flattered, already confident that he'd have his little betrothed back on side _before_ term even began. "Your manner and… well _everything_. It's just convinced me – really Malfoy,_ I_ just don't deserve _you._"

Narcissa decided it couldn't have gone better had she taken a gallon of _felix felicis_ that morning. She just had time to savour the astounded surprise on Malfoy's face before her Mother beckoned her, indicating it was time for the young ladies to go home. A genuine smile at her small triumph spread over Narcissa's face as she bid Malfoy good night and professed that she couldn't be more grateful for his help in making up her mind.

…

_Slimy git. _She thought as she stepped out of the emerald flames and into the Parlour of the Manor. And there was certainly no going back now. Narcissa's, largely dormant stubborn streak had been brought to the fore when he presumed he knew what she would do. She didn't want to be romantically entangled with him, but even if she had her stubbornness might have caused her to say no just to spite his presumptive nature. Plus, Malfoy's face had started to turn from surprise to outrage. She could only envisage that by then it had already become impassive and he would have declared her, in his head, to be a complete time-waster. That was fine by Narcissa, as long as he kept his loud arrogant voice, killer smirk and lavish gifts well away from her.

…

A day and a half later Narcissa was curled up on a squashy seat with a book cradled in her lap. Next to her was Marius, and across from him Helena. In fact the compartment was full of Slytherin first years, all bound for Scotland and swapping tales of Christmas holidays and gloating over different top-of-the-range gifts.

In a quiet moment as they piled on to the train, when only Helena was in ear shot, Marius had asked her about Malfoy. Narcissa had mutely shaken her head and he'd gave a brief nod of understanding. Now whenever she glanced up, her two friends offered her smiles that were remarkably soft for a Slytherin to give in public and every now and then a warm hand would rest momentarily on her ankle.

Narcissa's wish seemed to be coming true. She hadn't seen any third years yet, but these silent shows of support were enough to keep Narcissa's nerves at bay. Once the trolley had come round Narcissa nibbled a liquorice wand, gazing out of the window at the passing scenery with the firm hope that this next term would be much quietter for their little gang.


	31. Find, Play, Fight

Hello everyone, I was a way for a while so I've written a bit more than usual, which I hope you'll think is a good thing! Once more I'd like to thank the glorious people who review, it really does make my day and I love hearing what you think. Thank you , Professor McGonagal and MzMalfoy. I hope everyone enjoys it!

**Disclaimer: I still don't own anything at all.**

**Chapter 31**

Despite the cold weather of a very slow spring, Narcissa found she was glad to be back at the castle, even with its damp stone and draughty halls. The new term was the most relaxing time she could remember having. Now that she'd let go of her parents hopes for Malfoy, Narcissa could settle down into being a proper childhood, having fun and exploring the Castle.

It was on a blustery Tuesday afternoon when, having escaped there last lesson, Narcissa, Marius and the gang began the long route from the Astronomy Tower down to their Dungeons and found their favourite Castle secret. They were talking about the big box of sugar quills Helena had received for Christmas from an aunt, and how wonderful it was that the Professor thought them all deep in thought when they gazed up at the sky and nibbled the feathers. At that moment they were passing through a narrow corridor that soon gave out onto a stair case that _usually _lead down.

"Excuse me, did you young'uns just say, sugar quills?" In a moment of peering curiously around they realised that the voice had come from a painting. The occupant in the for-ground was peering at them with a vaguely hopeful expression, while a warlock at the back who was presumably her husband sang a rowdy sea-shanty and held up a toy boat. She rolled her eyes at his antics. "If he drinks even a drop of rum he declares himself a muggle Sailor. It's ever since he met those seven sea men on the third floor – and I suspect that's where he gets the 'rum' stuff. But never mind him, did you say sugar quills?"

The students exchanged confused glances before Narcissa spoke up. "I think we were all talking about sugar quills, Madame." She spoke kindly, her voice soft: this old Witch was clearly desperate to strike up conversation with anyone but the other occupant of her painting. The drunken man was now exclaiming 'Scurvy Werewolf!' and pointing accusingly at a painting to his right. The people depicted there ignored him, clearly used to such ranting.

"Oh thank goodness! I thought changing the password would work – oh, of course I'm not really meant to but nobody eats Owl Drops anymore and-. Well never mind. No one's discovered this in over a decade and now you dears can." She beamed at them and swung forward, revealing a square gap in the masonry which swelled until they could crouch and fit through.

The Slytherin first years were naturally cautious and eyed the passage way suspiciously, before muffled encouragement from the painted witch had Marius climbing up to put tentative feet on the stone path. Thomas (who had become part of the group when they'd had less to do with the third years he found intimidating) followed him and after a moment, the boys appeared at the end of the corridor grinning, and beckoning the girls. Helena, never one to shrink back from excitement climbed up and stooped her head to walk through. Carlotta and Amy followed quickly and Narcissa brought up the rear, swinging the portrait door shut.

At the end they found a cosy room with pale yellow walls, thick indigo carpet and a selection of ill-matched squashy furniture. It was not… stylish at all, but the warmth of the room after the cold corridor certainly made it appealing. The light was soft, but there were angled lamps that could be turned on, presumably for reading or studying, and the long bouncy sofa looked even comfier than the sleek ones in their common room. To top it all off, and to Marius and Narcissa's delight, there was a kettle hung over the fire and a little table with tea leaves and all other accoutrements for making tea – which was another thing the pair had bonded over. The other's seemed more pleased by Madame Cherino's Melta-Chock Blocks, that could be put into boiling water and loose no intensity of flavour.

They fixed themselves drinks and fell onto the varied furniture, laughing at their good fortune. There was plenty of room and Thomas stretched out along a settee, something he'd never be able to do at this time in the crowded Common Room. They were all more at ease here. They were supposed to relax in the Dungeons but the scheming there, the need for dignity, and being low in the pecking order made that difficult. The pseudo family had stumbled across a little sanctuary in the heart of the castle and over the next months they spent a lot of time in there. Narcissa was particularly grateful for the discovery. In the Common Room, when Malfoy wasn't being obvious about ignoring her, others were casting furtive glances between the two of them, trying to assess what had happened. It was not conducive to a relaxed atmosphere.

In 'The Sailor's' as they had dubbed it, the six played wizard's chess or, more frequently, exploding snap. This game was favoured because more could play at once, and they couldn't really play it in the Common Room as the cards that could singe carpets and set curtains or hair alight were not strictly allowed at Hogwarts. The two that came last in the exploding snap tournament had to make the drinks. That was the rule. A new rule but a strict one none the less and it was usually Carlotta and some other who lost, Carlotta was rather academic and her reflexes weren't great.

They spent a lot of time there in January and February, huddled into their nest while the Castle was near buried in snow drifts. At least once a week though they would wrap up and head out to the Quiditch Pitch. The season paused for the worst weather and training regimes were less intense, but Thomas and Marius were determined to get on the Slytherin team next year and the girls went along to help. While Amelia and Carlotta cheered from the most sheltered spot on the stands, Narcissa and Helena took to the sky on their pillion brooms – the only acceptable way for a pure-blood witch to fly. They soon realised that Narcissa had a knack for defending and she would hover before the hoops while the others practiced their chasing and beating.

It was a Saturday afternoon in early February when they'd hoped to get in a lot of practice before the light faded. It became apparent when the Gryffindor team turned up that the Pitch was double booked and the first years had to cut their makeshift game short. They quickly left and set their sights on the cocoa they could make at The Sailor's. The snow lay thick and soft on the ground and fat flakes of it flew lazily to cover the tracks on the hill up to the castle. Thomas who played Beater was sharing some banter with Marius and Amelia.

"We were playing for nearly an hour and you couldn't get _one _past her. She doesn't even want to join the team and she's showing you up Marius!" Narcissa couldn't quite supress a smirk. She had done very well as Keeper today, and she was rather pleased. She was thinking about how she'd have to order more of those kid-skin gloves, they really kept her hands nimble in the frigid air, when something wet and spikey with cold hit her. Quite suddenly. In the face.

She breathed in a stinging gasp of the frozen air as she felt the snow drip into the neck of her cloak. She turned and caught sight of Marius, his face blissful, young and carefree as he shook with silent laughter and held his sides, as though trying in vain to contain his mirth.

"Right, that's it. You're going down!" Narcissa stooped and scooped as much of the powdery snow into her small hands as she could. Marius was trying to run but she could hear his cackles and see that his body was more inclined to roll on the floor. He didn't get far before smack! He was hit in the back by her small but compact ball of snow and his indignant gasp had Narcissa giggling as she too ran for cover but struggled to hold any breath while she laughed at the murderous expression on his face. He threw again but Narcissa dodged behind a fir tree and he hit Helena instead.

Big mistake. Narcissa could not control her breathless giggles as she watched his frantic gestures, Marius's desperate attempts to tell Helena it was an accident. Too late. Helena wasn't listening. She was staring at him as she gathered up and rolled the biggest snow-ball yet, a look of devious intent on her pretty features. Glancing around Narcissa found the others, easy to spot by their dark cloaks against the white snow. Narcissa covered her mouth to muffle her chuckles as she watched, almost in slow motion, the scene unfolding before her. Thomas stood snorting as he watched Amelia running in the wake of Marius who was barely holding her off. Behind him quiet Carlotta and shy Amelia were working industriously. The first Thomas knew of their work his hood, which was filled with snow, was slammed over his head and his whole face was covered in the stuff!

From that moment on everyone was in the game and they ran whooping and cackling, skidding and throwing, through the grounds. They were in the courtyard where the snow was in parts slushier and icier when Marius slipped an icicle down the neck of Narcissa's blouse. She squealed and jumped around, trying in vain to dislodge it or find it in her clothes and get it out. She was letting out great gasping laughs as she did this, glaring at Marius whenever she was facing him but suddenly a metallic tapping brought her eyes up to a first floor window and she stopped in her tracks, feeling the ice melting as she stared in horror.

Bellatrix stood, dark and angry and framed by the pale arched window. She glared down at her sister and mouthed one word. The silent message to an errant sister who was having too much fun: _decorum._


	32. Brisk Orders and Simple Comforts

I'd like to thank the wonderful individuals who reviewed - it really does make me very happy: NymphadoracallmeTonks, MzMalfoy and WildGirJoe. Thank you so much, I really appreciate it.

**Chapter 32**

Narcissa stared transfixed as she saw her sister's dark silhouette flick from the window. She turned and found her friends had paused in their game. Some still held crudely shaped lumps of snow and all were either looking at her or up towards the window. Concerned faces waiting to see if (and hoping) she would shrug it off and continue with their high jinks. Narcissa could hear the pulse in her ears and the cold that she had not minded before seemed to dig icy nails into her flesh.

"I'm sorry. I'll come and find you by dinner." A small sad smile for her friends and Narcissa was gone, striding out to meet her sister's disapproval before it could grow into a more terrible wrath.

She found Bellatrix easily. Or more accurately, Bellatrix found her. Narcissa was heading along a first-floor, striding with quiet dignity as she pulled off her gloves, when she felt a quiet presence fall into step beside her. A hand gripped her wrist and Narcissa was swept easily into a small alcove at the end of the hall. It was cramped and Narcissa's eyes were only beginning to adjust to the dim light after the bright day as Bellatrix drew her wand and muttered a silencing charm.

"Narcissa."

"Bellatrix." Narcissa returned.

"What was that? Running round like a wild thing – in public no less! It isn't like you and it's a flagrant abuse of the trust that Mother and Father place in us. They allowed you to have a say and are letting things with Malfoy take their course, but that means you're position is even more precarious. Eyes are everywhere – don't interrupt me!" Bellatrix snapped, flinging up a manicured hand as Narcissa opened her mouth to speak. "Eyes are everywhere and any reports of behaviour like _that_ will stick and alter your prospects beyond what family status can save."

Bellatrix drew a heavy breath. She had been speaking quickly, her dark eyes intense and sincere as her voice rose steadily from a hiss. Seeming to regain her composure Bellatrix stood straighter putting her perfect posture back in place, becoming a General ready to issue orders to her troops. Her voice was steadier and once again quiet as she said:

"I trust you have not forgotten that we all agreed to go to Slughorn's dinner. It is tomorrow night. You are permitted to bring someone along but, rest assured, their behaviour _and_ yours must be up to Black standard. Do you understand me?"

…

Narcissa did. She'd been having too much fun over the last weeks, ad it would be harder to get away with it now Bella was more suspicious. Slowly she wandered the halls, mourning the speed with which a day could turn from sweet to sour. Bellatrix had spoken with sense, but a childish part of Narcissa wanted to shout that it wasn't fair – she'd been having such a lovely time. Yet she knew there was no point defying Bellatrix…at least not publically.

Somehow her feet – or perhaps it was the magic of the Castle, moving stairs and all – had brought her to the portrait of the kindly witch and her drunken companion. Narcissa muttered the password and made her way down the passage, the warmth hitting her immediately. As she rounded the corner into the cheerful room a face turned to look at her over the back of the sofa.

"Marius! I didn't think… surely its time for dinner? I didn't expect anyone to be here…" Narcissa trailed off. Her friend had stood up, his hands tucked into his pockets and a shy smile warming his face.

"I thought you might come up here after… it was a hunch. I hope you don't mind."

"No, of course not." Narcissa had intended to find some space to be on her own, but somehow she found she was truly glad that Marius was there. "Where are the others?"

"At dinner I think, I told them not to wait for me." He called the answer over his shoulder as he was already setting the kettle to boil for tea. 'Good' Narcissa thought, surprising herself. She hooked her saturated cloak onto a peg and sat on the sofa to take off her dragon hide boots. They had a long strip of laces, emphasising and supporting her delicate ankle, and she struggled to remove them with fingers that were still half numb from the long-time spent handling hunks of snow.

Nothing was said but in a moment Marius was kneeling, replacing her hands with his and efficiently pulling the laces free of the stream of loops. He turned to answer the whistling kettle and Narcissa kicked the boots off, tucking her feet up under her. She closed her eyes and relaxed into the warmth and comfort the small haven provided. Her muscles felt pleasantly tired, the exertion giving a natural ache which told her she'd been working her body in the cold.

"Here." Marius said softly, pressing a steaming cup into her hands and flopping down onto the cushions next to her. They sat in companionable quiet, drinking their tea and gazing into the fire. Marius didn't say anything for a long time, but his silent show of support was comforting. When he did speak the dregs of their tea had long turned cold in the cups.

"Do you want to talk about it?" His voice was quiet and tentative but considered; he'd been thinking about what to say for a while. He didn't glance at her, but sensed she had shaken her head. He nodded. A moment later he turned and met her pale eyes with his deep hazel ones. "I'm quite sure dinner is finished now… if you're alright, we could go find some food…? I heard some Gryffindors talking about where the Kitchens are and I'm sure we could find them." He wasn't rushing her, he was happy to wait, but she could hear the eagerness in his voice and smiled up at him. That sounded like a challenge and, with Bellatrix safely down in the Dungeons ruling the Common Room, a chance for mischief that her older sister may never need to know about.


	33. Dancing Queen

**Hey guys:** thanks as always to the wonderful reviewers who literally make my week. I'm sure you're all sick of hearing this but with summer's ends my updates will be less frequent. They should consistently be only a day or two less frequent - I hope you think the story's worth just a little longer wait and that you enjoy this chapter!

**Chapter 33**

The basement kitchen of Hogwarts was warm with the merry light of a well stoked fire and the chatter of two young Slytherins. They sat at the end of one long scrubbed wooden table, surrounded by House Elves who milled about peacefully now that they had seen the two students fed. The room was industrious, but in a homely manner and, now that they had found it, Narcissa and Marius discovered they rather liked this comparatively shabby area of the Castle.

There was a momentary lull in their conversation. "Marius," Narcissa began, watching her spoon run through the pool of custard at the bottom of her dish. "It's Slughorn's party tomorrow. I wondered if, maybe, you might like to come as my guest…?" Had Narcissa glanced up at that moment she would have noticed the joyous look that brightened the hazel eyes of her companion. She might have somehow seen the swelling hope that had filled his heart fit to burst, and perhaps she would have decided not to carry on talking. But she didn't. "There's no way I can get out of it, it's bound to be a bore, but if I really must go then I'll have to make the best of it… you know you're as good for a laugh as anyone…" She peeked up through her lashes and saw that Marius had turned away – the side of his face, the curve of cheek and shell of his ear, revealed nothing.

"Sure. I'll come." He replied, very quietly.

"Well you don't have to, I didn't think you'd mind helping me out when-" Narcissa began in a rush, genuinely not expecting such cool resistance to her scheme.

"Of course Cissa. I'm sorry, of course… of course I want to help you – and I would help you with many things less pleasant than an hour or two at a silly party. Don't worry."

In a very un-Slytherin (and un-Black if it came to it) move Narcissa had leaned across the table and wrapped her arms around Marius in a brief, awkward hug. She quickly leaned back, blushing at the display wrought from affection and relief. She'd heard the Hufflepuff's hung about somewhere near here, but she hadn't expected to bloody turn into one.

After that, there didn't seem to be much point hanging around, as pleasant as the kitchen was and the select company it offered was. The Common Room was fairly full of Saturday night revellers when they got back, but the two parted ways for their dormitories, knowing that the next day may involve a late night.

…

Sunday was a busy time around the Castle, at least it was busy by Lunch when the students had thoroughly savoured the last day of the week where they could lie in. After Lunch they took various paths in making the most of their freedom, whether those paths lead them to the Grounds or (more popularly given the time of year) to whatever part of the Castle they could get on with their chosen pursuit. It was a busy time and most people had several places to be, a few errands to run and a couple of games to play. Not so for Narcissa. That Sunday she hung around the dormitory, even skipping lunch, in a bit of a sulk at having been ordered to Slughorn's party, despite having half intended to go anyway. She told the girls she was alright, and spoke briefly to Marius at the bottoms of the steps to assure him that they were still on for the evening. But other than that had little contact with the world outside her bed and her books.

And so it was with initial incomprehension and then dawning shock that Narcissa viewed the party décor in Sughorn's undetectably-extended Office. It was very pink, and quite red for that matter, and absolutely smothered in hearts. Several possibilities flashed in Narcissa's mind 'Speed dating? Some anniversary?' but she already knew the answer. She had just now realised the date.

"Merlin's beard!" Narcissa groaned in a hiss. She turned to Marius who was looking down at her with concern in his brown-gold eyes "Did you realise? It's the flipping _fourteenth. _Of _February!_"

Marius couldn't respond before Slughorn swept down upon them. "Narcissa m'dear, and Marius m'boy. Just wonderful to see you both here _together." _The professor sang out, a knowing twinkle in his eye and a grin on his plump face. Narcissa was a Black and could respond with subtlety yet in just a moment ensure the Potions Master had no false ideas about herself and Marius. Doing so was her only option if she wanted to contain the damage – if her sister, or Merlin forbid, her parents heard of another un-planned romance she would be deep in owl droppings.

"It's great to see you too sir, thank you for the invitation and for throwing such an event. Marius just didn't-" But Slughorn cut her off, his chest swelling like a bull-frog at his own importance as the orchestrator of the gathering.

"Not at all my dear, not at all! The pair of you are both welcome and I'm sure you'll find my little soirée the perfect place to make contacts. Both your sisters are here of course, Narcissa, and the cream of my crop of ex-students. "

"Yes, thank you sir. Marius just thought he'd tag along…" She tried again to explain, but Slughorn was already excusing himself and turning away, urging them to have a good night. "Well thank you Marius." Narcissa said turning back to him, an exasperated tone in her voice and an anxious frown resting between her brows. "You could've helped me explain how things are! – and did you realise it was Valentine's day because I…" She trailed off, her blue eyes no longer fixed in frustrated heat on Marius but in fascinated horror and stinging surprise on the dance floor.

A space had been cleared; the carpet transfigured into a slightly raised wooden floor and a band was playing a song with a fast beat and a slower melody. Enchanted heart shaped balloons in sugar pink floated over couples and red streamers dangled around the dancers who were gathered in loose groups. It was more of a social gathering than a dance party and the band was not well-known; the small square space was far from crowded, giving a view of every dancer to those stood on the side lines. And Andromeda and Lucius stood swaying and turning in a tight embrace.


	34. Getting Away

**Thanks to all the wonderful people who read and review!**

**Chapter 34**

"Narcissa…"

"Marius, will you just stop?! You can't make me feel fine about this and your fussing is just drawing attention to me – which I don't need right now."

The pair stood, one entreating one hissing, over the refreshment table in Slughorn's rooms. Narcissa's initial shock had vanished as soon as she caught Malfoy's malicious gaze over Adromeda's shoulder and was replaced by a cool façade, only marred by the occasional quiver of her lip. A crowd had grown in the half hour since they had arrived, but the gathering was select enough that Narcissa knew her disappearance would be noted. This was just one of those things that had to be endured.

She drew in a deep, steadying breath and turned away, ready to make banal conversation with whoever engaged her. She had to act normally, it would help. Seeing Lucius with Andromeda like that had been an awful, sickening shock. Like leaning on an apparently solid wall to realise it was in fact a secret passage – and Narcissa had only just managed to catch herself. She felt a bit skittish and making idle chatter with some dull member of the Ministry or an old professor could be just the thing to sort her out. She was born and raised to win people over, it was as easy as breathing.

…

Throughout the evening Marius stuck to her side faithfully. He managed to charm the people there with Slytherin smoothness, though he was not as assured as she was and whenever she looked at him the expression in his eyes reminded her of a kicked House Elf. His reproachful look was also marred with concern and this infuriated Narcissa all the more – if he cared about her enough to comprehend what had happened he shouldn't be annoyed that she didn't feel like dancing.

By the time Narcissa felt it was appropriate to make her excuses and leave she had had quite enough of his stifling company. She just had to get away from everything, just for a while – just for the walk back to the dungeons – and she'd be fine. She had to be. Those precious few minutes were all the time she could afford.

"Marius, I insist. Stay. Don't let me ruin your evening." She said, smiling her bright, beautiful, false smile.

"Narcissa I don't think you-"

"For Merlin's sake Marius will you just leave me be?" Narcissa brooked no reply, turned on her heal and stormed off down the corridor. Her heart beat raced in her ears. She sped up, trying to get away from the lights, from the music spilling from Slughorn's door, from the images in her head and the pulsing pain of betrayal in her heart. The faster she ran the harder she found it to stop the tears that were swelling up from her lower lids and blocking her vision. She was pounding down the corridor and her heavy breaths were morphing into heavy sobs as fat, salty droplets ran down her pale cheeks.

She turned corners almost blindly, unthinking, as though her pounding footsteps could block out the snide voice in her head that told her she had been a fool. That it was her fault. She stopped at a dead end, unsure where she was and without the strength or will to retrace her footsteps. She sank to her knees and bawled into her hands, trying to keep quiet. It wasn't her fault. It wasn't. It _wasn't_.

She'd started to bunch up her fists, knuckling her eyes to try and relieve the stinging. She felt warm arms close around her shoulders and a soothing voice making shushing noises. Narcissa turned her head, smothering her noises against the sleeve of smart dress robes until they were just sad little squeaks as she tried to regain her breath.

"How could they?" She moaned pathetically as she leaned back into her friend's warmth. "How could… my _sister_…? And he said… he said he _cared_ about me!"

She felt a soft kiss planted into her hair, and the warm arms tightened to rock her slumped body slightly. Still she wouldn't be comforted. "How?" She wailed distraughtly.

"I don't know." Marius answered quietly, sorrowfully.

They sat like that for a while. Marius leant against the wall and held her up as she snuffled and dabbed her eyes with his hanky now and then when they started leaking again. When she had found a voice that was more like her own, she looked up at him.

"_And _you were cross with me." She said reproachfully, her eyes full of hurt accusation.

"Yes."

"Why…?"

"I… I can't really explain Narcissa. I was angry and – and hurt - sort of like you are now. I was unhappy… I'm not happy now but this… _you_… are more important." As he said 'you' he squeezed her a little tighter and she nuzzled back. All the crying had made her tired, and her head was sore from it too. His defence wasn't much of an answer, but he was there for her then and that was what mattered.

They made their quiet way back to the Dungeons. The castle was chilly by that time, a few hours after the sun had stopped warming the stone, and Marius gave Narcissa his jacket – but urged her to her walk quickly and keep up because he was cold too! She told him he was no gentleman and he looked so offended that it brought a reluctant giggle from her worn out throat. Before they got to the Common Room Narcissa, at Marius' insistence, summoned Floss. When she arrived Marius politely asked the Elf to Apparate Narcissa to her dorm. Narcissa flashed Marius a grateful smile; she didn't want her tear stained face to be the talk of the school tomorrow, and she wouldn't have thought to get Floss.

…

Narcissa let Floss help her get ready for bed, and then snuggled under the thick covers, glad to be warm and alone with her thoughts. Her eyes were too raw to keep open, but the image of her sister and her dance partner played over behind Narcissa's lids for hours before the relief of sleep came.


	35. The Morning After

_Well hello lovelies, I would like to say that I am ecstatic! Last chapter hit, and the went over 75 whole reviews! How exciting is that? Very me, maybe not so much for you... Regardless I would like to say an especially earnest and grateful thanks to every single reviewer especially those who reviewed chapter 34: One wonderful guest reviewer, _NymphadoracallmeTonks, MzMalfoy (_who's fic 'Malfoy: unknown' is definitely worth a read and someone thing that I must finish soon), and special thanks to a brand new reviewer of Chapter 1_ Sweeney B_ who's new work looks great for anyone has read the Night Trilogy. Oh, and they also got me to update quicker, they said upload soon and I'd just finished writing it so I apoologise for unfiltered type Os._

_So how amazing are you lot? The correct answer is 'Utterly, Pheonlynx. You are unworthy of our praise but we bestow it anyway with the greatest benevolence.'_

_My, that is a lot of author's note. I only console myself with the fact most people skip it and won't hear such drivel - but I did have to say thank you, in case anyone does read this nonsense :)_

**_I think you guys have caught on to my shameful secret by now. I am not J K Rowling... guess that cat is out of it's bag. All credit goes to the wonderful J K for our beloved Harry and his world._**

**Chapter 35**

The next morning was Monday and Narcissa's slumber had been blessedly dreamless. Still, when Floss came to wake her in time for breakfast, Narcissa felt she could have slept for another week. She felt physically drained from her violent weeping, and emotionally worn from the cause of her tears. Worst of all she felt cowardly, and Black's aren't cowards.

Narcissa had an insistent desire to stay hidden in her dorm. She did not want to go down to the Great Hall and be around everyone at breakfast. She didn't want to do her duty, maintain her dignity and pretend that nothing had happened. And she certainly did _not_ want to see Andromeda… or Malfoy for that matter.

_Bloody cur._ She snarled to herself, hastily throwing the books she'd need for the day into her dark leather satchel. She tossed in the considerable weight of her thick charms book in and heard a splintering crunch that made her wince. The crystal phials, a Christmas present. Narcissa groaned, the burden of irritation adding to her emotional load. She didn't even _have_ Potions until Wednesday. It was all going wrong that morning.

Sighing she emptied the bag and aimed her wand at the perilously delicate shards. With a flick of her wrist the phials were as good as new, but the act reminded her that she wouldn't have known the useful spell but for her 'darling' sister Andromeda teaching her it earlier in the year. Narcissa didn't want to be reasonable. She wanted to stay angry and betrayed. It was a lot easier than facing up to the reality of what had happened and why she was upset.

But she knew she had to find Andromeda. They had to talk, preferably before lessons so Narcissa had a chance of taking in anything her professors said. After all, Blacks stick together. And with that thought she swung her bag over her shoulder, and stiffened her lip for the day ahead.

…

"So wait, she didn't _want _to dance with him? Could've fooled me". Marius commented, his voice full of outraged distrust. They were in 'Sailor's', holding a muttered conversation while supposedly refereeing the game of chess between Amy and Helena. Amy could never quite get which moves were legal or not fixed in her brain, so to give her a sporting chance it was necessary to have a 'Ref' on call. Carlotta and Thomas were missing from the party, she'd wanted to send a letter to her parents, and as the nights were decidedly drawing in, Tom had offered to join her in the trip to the Owlery.

"Yes. She's had a bit to drink. Listen, we didn't have any of that punch but by all accounts it was… pungent to say the least. I don't know what Professor Slughorn was thinking, serving that in school but anyway. The fact is she was a little tipsy and upset over some tiff with her Ravenclaw friends – who for obvious reasons weren't there. It could have been any third year she'd ended up dancing the night away with."

"So she says." Was his breathed reply.

Narcissa paused a moment then answered quickly, resolutely. "So she says and so I believe. She's never shown any interest in him before and it didn't mean anything to her-"

"That makes it worse!" Marius exclaimed before glancing down at the girls sat on the hearth rug. Helena, who was waiting her turn cast him a curious glance but quickly looked back at the board to check Amy's progress. Marius flushed a little, and lowered his voice again as he continued. "She hurt you – don't deny it Narcissa, I was there – and for no good reason. It's like you said, that it didn't matter to her, but it did mean something to you. She was careless and she's your sister! She should care… no matter what the situation; she should anticipate what could hurt you."

Narcissa giggled. Marius was so full of outrage, indignation written all over his face. He wore such an incredulous look and he was so tense as he whispered the words that she could not help but let out some of the tension of the last few days in a little chuckle.

She tried to control her voice as she replied "I'm sorry Marius… your just… and no one can just, just… stop doing what they want… because I might not like it!" Her pauses were punctuated with little hiccups of in a second Marius's face had changed to mock anger and his hazel eyes glinted brighter with amusement and shone with mischievous intent.

"Laugh at me will you? Giggle at your friend? At the great Marius? I will show you Madame Black!" In one swift move he had seized her ankle from where it rested on a cushion and was skilfully tickling the soul of her dainty foot. Narcissa was instantly helpless, squirming and gasping, and laughing earnestly despite herself.

Marius had to contort himself again and again to doge he kicking leg and flailing other limbs, fighting his own laughter to declare: "ha! Now you see the wrath that you incurred! Let it be known that one does not simply – _ooft_!" One of Narcissa shins had connected with his belly, knocking the air out of him, but he clung fast to her ankle, relentlessly moved his fingers over her sensitive skin and valiantly continued his speech. "Does not simply _laugh_ at _me_!"

He finished his speech a little short of breath, but not so much as Narcissa. Even as he released her foot and tried to gently lay it down, before she defensively snatched both feet up and close to her, she was too breathless to speak. She couldn't summon enough air to say a word, and whenever she thought she might have, only hysterical giggles escaped. Marius smiled down at her slightly dishevelled from and fondly pulled up one of her escaping socks before she could flinch away.

It had been too long since he'd seen her laugh, and the chance to relax her into her smiling, carefree self – for just a little while – was too much to resist. He hated to see her sad. But she wasn't facing up to what had happened last night. Marius was far from convinced by Andromeda's explanation as Narcissa recounted it, but for now it was best to let Cissy find the peace she could. And he would find his own peace by ignoring the obvious question that was casting a long, deep, shadow over his cheerful outlook – why was she still so bothered about that blonde rat?


End file.
